Letters To John
by Tediousways123
Summary: It's three months after Sherlock died, and John is still depressed about it. The only thing that seems to keep him sane, is these mysterious letters that come through his post; whenever there is a new case.


_**Letters to John**_

_Part 1 __John's Story_

_Thursday 19__th_

_8:05 am_

_John Watson sat silently in his apartment chair; staring distantly at the chair opposite him. The chair that his best friend used to sit on. The chair that belonged to Sherlock Holmes._

_It had been three months since the 'incident', and John still wasn't able to get himself to talk about it. "I still can't bear being in this flat without you or anywhere really! You made my life something and...Living it without you...I hate it." John whispered to Sherlock's chair. He ruffled his hand through his pocket, and pulled out a folded card._

_Slowly, he got up and placed the card onto the mantelpiece, and turned to face Sherlock's chair again. "Happy Birthday...Sherlock, I miss you," John said whilst having one hand placed on his chair-acting like it was actually Sherlock's arm._

_8:10 am_

_John's eyes were starting to sting, and his vision was getting blurry. He was crying. John ran to the bathroom, soaking his face in cold water. Three knocks came to the door._

"_Hiya luv. A letter just came for you in the post. Do you want it now, or would you like me to put it on the table." Mrs Hudson asked sweetly through the door._

"_Thank you Mrs Hudson, I'll be right out." John grabbed a towel and patted down his face. His eyes were now red-raw, so he kept his head down whilst receiving the letter._

_*LETTER*_

_Check Kadies shed for maple saw dust. Then check victim's lung intake. Arrest Kadie - anomalous_

_John had been getting these letters for about 2 months now, and there were still no leads as to who had been getting them. "Did you see who post this?" John asked; even though he knew what the answer was._

"_Sorry luv, I think it been there for a while. Are you alright, you're looking a little pale?" Mrs Hudson worried whilst trying to see John's face properly._

"_Yes...I'm fine Mrs Hudson. Just...you know...the day and all..."_

"_Oh it'll be fine luv, how's about I make us a cup of tea. Then you can go down to the police station, and work on that case a bit more." She said, whilst putting on a smile to help lighten the mood._

_10:50 am_

"_Good morning Dr Watson. Have you got anymore leads on this murder case?" DCI Lestrade immediately asked John as soon as he walked into his office._

"_Ummm yes, as a matter of fact I do." John passed Lestrade the letter, which he'd stuff in his pocket. "It came this morning, still no clue on who left it though." _

"_Yes, we've been trying to scan for finger prints, checked the CCTV...the works. But still...nothing." Lestrade looked up at John for the first time since he'd walked into his office, and instantly saw that he looked distressed. "John are you ok. You look kinda...distant?" _

"_It's his 36th today." John said straight after Lestrade asked. As soon as he blurted it out, John was automatically fighting back tears._

"_Oh John I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to come in...I didn't know." Lestrade stared at John, looking for a reaction; but all John could return back was, "That's fine." Keeping his eyes fixed on the grey marble floor._

"_Why don't you go back home? I'll keep you updated on the case, and I'll tell you if there's any change...ok?" Lestrade said as sympathetically as he could._

"_Sure, sure. I'll drop by later and help out." John said with a half-hearted smile. As John was almost out the door, Lestrade suddenly said something that set John's tears off._

"_You know, whoever has been sending you these letters is a right genius. They've already solved two major cases for us. They must be able to get around a lot."_

_John quickly ran before any of them could see him crying. 'Cause all he could think about, was how much the letters reminded him of Sherlock. And how much he wanted him by his side right now._

_11:20 am_

_Slumping onto the sofa, John tried to think about his time in the army, and on the battlefield. Remembering all his friends abroad, and all the help he gave whilst working for the army. But his mind soon turned to the first time him and Sherlock met. And how he brought the battlefield back to John._

_He soon started thinking about their first case, 'A study in pink'. And the way Sherlock was able to tell John his whole life with just one look at John; deducting everyone and everything around them. And the way Sherlock helped cure his leg._

_11:25 am_

_John was so caught up in his memories that he didn't realise that Mrs Hudson had been in till he heard the door slam. John was startled back into reality, realising that whilst he'd been remembering, he'd been smiling due to his memories; but tears had silently left his eyes. He wiped away the streaks his tears left on his cheeks, then he saw it. Another letter left from the anomalous tipper._

"_Mrs Hudson!" John shouted, no answer came back. "Mrs Hudson are you there?"_

_11:26 am_

"_Hello luv, did you call me?" Mrs Hudson asked whilst walking through the living-room door._

"_Yes, ummm when did this get here?" John asked, whilst gesturing towards the envelope._

"_Oh I don't know luv, it's the first I've heard of it." Mrs Hudson exclaimed. Leaving John in the room alone. He opened it eagerly, wanting to know the next clue for the case. But the letter didn't have anything about the case, but a letter about why:_

_*LETTER*_

_John, I have been writing to you for the past two months; helping you with your enquiries. I wish nothing in return, but for you to solve these cases. Remember that. Forever your friend-anomalous._

_John stared at the letter, confused as to why someone has written this and above all, why they wrote 'forever your friend'. He didn't know this person let alone his name; and yet he's saying he's his friend. John just shoved the letter to the side, next to some old newspapers, grabbed his coat and headed out._

_2:45 pm_

_John had been walking around the city for hours now, and didn't realise where he was going till he looked up and saw the words 'Bartholomew's Hospital', clearly standing out from the building in front of him._

_2::50 pm_

_Opening the creaking the door, John looked upon the roof; in the exact place were his world came crashing down. He walked sheepishly to the edge on the roof, and sat on the spot. "I still don't believe what you said you know..." He said, looking distant-but talked as if Sherlock was right next to him. "...Nothing you could say or do could make me think any differently of you. I mean, you have no common sense whatsoever, you always think you can treat people the way you want just because you can see through them with one glance. And overall you're an arrogant sod!" John took a minute to think of his next words', breathing deeply as if preparing for a speech. "But you are the most human man I have ever met and I ummm...I owe you so much. I was so lonely before I met you, and I owe you so much. Whilst I was with you, all my problems seemed to disappear. Just Sherlock... do one more thing, one more trick for me just...don't. Don't be dead. Please. I can't bare it without you,"_

"_I thought I saw you come up here." Said a quite sweet voice, coming from behind John. He turned around to see her standing there with two cups of coffee with her._

"_Hi Molly. Yeah I just...needed to see something that's all." Molly sat down beside him, handing him his cup of coffee whilst they both thought of what to say._

"_I really miss him too." She started, with a dazed look. "I sometimes think about all the times he was in here; some good others bad." She said with a nervous laugh. She looked at John, who could tell she was getting ready for some advice; which John wasn't going to take-but listened anyway._

"_I sometimes talk to people about it you know. About what it is I miss or, if I just need a shoulder to cry on," Molly tried a smile, but saw that he was just looking at his cup; running rings around the edge of his cup with his thumb. "Do you need to talk about anything?" Molly clearly seemed worried about John, so he thought he'd get one thing off his chest._

"_He asked me to make him a coffee last time we were here, but I told him to piss off." John looked up and they both started laughing; imagining the reaction on Sherlock's face when John said this. John gave a long sigh, and whispered. "He was my best friend."_

_Molly immediately went over and hugged John, just so that he could cry or at least hide his upset expression from her. Knowing that he wanted to keep his dignity._

_2:54 pm_

_They both were near the bottom of the stairs, when Molly quickly caught John's attention. "You know, if you ever need someone there for you. Or you just what to talk...you can come round here anytime you want!" She gave him a quick hug before waving him goodbye. Whilst walking home, John thought about what Molly said to him; he then found himself talking quietly to himself._

"_How can I talk to anyone about this? I witnessed my best friend dying. There is nothing to talk about. Why can't everyone just..." He got lost for words, which didn't matter now that he was home._

_3:56 pm _

_John waited in the living room for a bit, and then rushed to the kitchen to make himself some tea and some Jam on toast. He knew he needed to eat, even if he wasn't hungry._

_4:10 pm_

_As soon as he'd eaten his food, a knock came to the door. John flew downstairs and opened it._

"_Well your tipper was right! Again! If we knew who he was, we could use him in the force with us." Lestrade said as soon as the door was opened. He'd obviously been working on this case all day. He looked at John and quickly changed his tone. "Look, if you want to be alone, I can leave if you want. I just thought you might want to know about the letters-"_

_Lestrade had trailed of, which made John more eager to know. "What about the letters?" John gestured Lestrade into the living-room, to know more about the letters._

"_Well we've got a photo of the person posting the letters. There was a second of CCTV footage, so, we took the picture and came over to show you." Lestrade looked at John's face whilst passing him the picture._

"_Does this person look formilia in any way?" John just took in the picture and answered with a simple, "No." But John felt weird looking at the picture, as if he knew who it was. The man in the picture was wearing hoodie (Obviously to hid his face), leather gloves and for some reason; what looked to be suit pants. "I find it amazing how this person can lurk in the shadows without being seen, none of the other cameras got anything," Lestrade looked at the floor. He was hoping John could tell him something. But apparently it seemed he was wrong._

"_I've got a question actually." John said, still gazing at the picture. "Why is this person wearing suit pants? I mean, usually; if you need a disguise you would wear something that's less noticeable, right?" Lestrade seemed taken back and confused at what John had said, so he took another look at the picture; and this time noticed the pants._

"_How did you see that? We've had dozens of people look at this and no-one has seen that!" Lestrade was truly amazed at John's deduction. "That's brilliant! Now we have a new lead, this is great!"_

_4:15 pm_

_John walked Lestrade to the door, whilst they discussed many more ways this piece of evidence can help them with so many more things. Mrs Hudson walked in at that point with a few bags of shopping; John helped her put it away. Then they both started to prepare some food for themselves. Mrs Hudson usually ate with John, but only to make sure he did eat._

_5:20 pm_

_After eating their tea, John offered to clear everything away, and for Mrs Hudson to put her feet up for a while._

_5:30 pm _

_John had cleared the plates and put them away now. But no matter how much he tried to keep himself busy with chores and work, he couldn't get the photo out of his head; it's almost as if he knew the man in the picture. But he couldn't figure out why._

_He suddenly thought of Sherlock, and walked over to the mantelpiece; once again, staring at Sherlock's chair._

"_Well I'm going to go and do some work, so ummm...I'm gonna go to my room. Just don't forget what I said...on the roof of the hospital. Ok?" John started walking off, but stopped and turned to face Sherlock's chair again. "Happy Birthday Sherlock. I wish you were here." _

_He didn't even bother getting changed by the time he was finished with his jobs; he just plummeted himself on the top of his bed, and soon started drifting into a dreamless sleep._

_3:49 am Friday 20th July_

_John woke up due to a sudden banging, coming from the inside of his room._

"_Mrs Hudson? Is that you?" John asked confused and worried. But as soon as he spoke, the banging stopped; and a dark figure ran out of his bedroom and towards the front door. John started running after the mysterious person, making it to the wide open door only find that the dark figure was already turning the corner from the road. John sprinted in his direction, and seeing, that as soon as turning the corner; the dark figure had disappeared._

_Everywhere was empty and dark, and John could feel himself getting dizzy and tired-do to his running. He turned around and walked back to the flat. Turning frequently to see if the figure had turned back._

_John bolted the door as well as all the windows. Once he thought it was safe enough, he walked back up to his room; only to be shaken at the image in front of him. A letter was there. It had been placed on his window-ledge, exactly where the dark figure had been just moments ago. He wasn't sure what would be inside when he opened it. Whether it be about the case, or the tipper to be explaining why again. He even considered throwing it away._

_But instead, tore the sandy coloured paper open, not knowing what to expect from the previous. And started reading it._

_*LETTER*_

_John, I'm sorry that I broke into your flat; but I needed give you this letter urgently. I just want to say thank you...for what you said before. That's all. Also you need to lock the door at night again; you know how paranoid you get. (I came through the living room window) Forever you friend-anomalous._

_3:50 am_

_John just sat on the edge of his bed, not able to make sense of the letter. But he felt too tired to think about it though; and soon started drifting into unconsciousness; whilst his mind wondered about both the picture and the most recent of letters. But he soon started thinking about the dark figure, and remembered how tall he was._

_8:50 am_

_*DREAM*_

_John was running through a grey fog, but he wasn't sure if he was running away from something. Or towards someone. The more he ran the thicker and darker the fog seemed to get. He soon found himself lost, and couldn't find anything to help him._

"_Hello!" He shouted, "Is there anyone there? Please?" He began to panic, and turned around in circles, but couldn't see a thing._

"_Don't worry John. Everything's going to be fine just...calm down." Said a deep husky voice coming from the lightest part of the greying fog._

"_Who's there?" John questioned. Worry spreading over his entire body. John could see a dark figure emerge from the fog, from where the voice from before had come from. But the figure that came from the fog was the dark figure he had chased before. But he sounded formilia. Then John saw his face. A face that was formilia to John. A face that belonged to..._

_*REALITY*_

_John awoke from his dream all sweaty and paranoid._

"_John, luv." Mrs Hudson's knocking and talking is what woke John up. "Is everything alright, you're not usually in bed this long?" Worry was obvious in her voice. John got up and fell to the floor with a thud as he did. But got back up in a flash, and stepped out of his bedroom; looking at the worried Mrs Hudson._

"_Yes, yes I'm fine Mrs Hudson just ummm...got woken up quite early last night, and took me a while to get back off to sleep." John said, hoping she wouldn't stress the matter anymore._

"_Are you catching a cold?" Surprise was now on her face._

"_No, why do you ask?" John asked whilst heading towards the kitchen to make some tea._

"_It's just that you're looking quite pale...and scared. Are you sure you're fine?" _

"_Yes, Mrs Hudson I'm fine!" John said, noticing his eyes were stinging a little. "Would you like some tea?" John offered her._

"_None for me luv, I'm off out. There's this big charity shop, opening. And they're making the first day special. My friend is actually one of the owners' of it actually, you know I..."_

"_Yes Mrs Hudson if you would excuse me, I'm going to get into the shower." John said to Mrs Hudson, cutting her off from what she was about to say. And walked away before she could start talking again._

_9:15 am_

_John spent an extra 5 minutes in the shower, as a way to calm himself down a bit. After stepping out of the shower-fully dried and dressed; John more awake and refreshed from the scare he had from his dream. But he was still worrying himself about what happened last night, and started asking himself questions like: Was the door locked? Why is this person saying there my friend? Why does he look so formilia? How did they know that I don't usually lock the door?_

_Checking his phone, John had three missed calls. All off Lestrade. So John immediately called him back._

_*INCOMING CALL*_

"_**Hey, Lestrade?"**_

"_**Hi John, I was wondering if you could come down to the station. There's something I think you'd want to see."**_

"_**Ummm...sure I'll be there as soon as."**_

_The line went dead after that, so he grabbed his coat and headed out the door; when he got outside he stuck out his arm for a taxi. But immediately retracted it. He didn't want to be in a taxi, not without Sherlock._

_He hadn't been in a taxi since the day of the 'incident'; he didn't feel right being in a taxi alone. Didn't feel right to be in one without Sherlock. Instead, he walked everywhere._

_10:05 am_

_He reached the station, and started making his way up the stairs. When he ran into Sergeant Donovan._

"_Oh, hello John! I haven't seen you for a while." She said cheerfully._

"_Yeah same here, I've just been walking around places...that's all." John explained. He'd been trying to avoid Donovan ever since the 'incident', he didn't like the way she thought of Sherlock._

"_Yeah...yeah. Anyway, I hear you're the person who's been solving all these cases. How'd you do it?" She had a genuine look of curiosity on her face, so he decided to tell her about the letters._

"_Well actually I've been having an anomalous tipper for all of them." Seeing the look of surprise on her face, he carried on. "They come through my letter slot whenever I and the police are out of our dept. Which is pretty much always." John tried to put on a fake smile, in an attempt to make the conversation end. He walked off, not even looking back to see what Donovan's face was like; but went straight into Lestrade's office._

_10:10 am _

"_Ah, John there you are! I was wondering where you were-you took a while!" Lestrade was stacking some papers-pretending that he was busy, when really; he was just trying to impress his boss. Who was gazing at him from the opposite cubical._

"_Sorry, about that. I couldn't get a taxi." Said John, rooting through the pictures on Lestrade's desk; most of which included him and his wife. "So, what is it you wanted to show me?"_

"_Oh yeah just give me a minute."_

_10:12 am_

"_Right, we have some CCTV footage of that bloke you chased out you're house last night. If you'd like to have a look?" Lestrade explained whilst preparing the tape for John. John walked over to the other side of Lestrade's desk to watch. "As you can see, after the hoodie turned the corner he went down the alley just opposite Baker Street. It's pretty much invisible, so you probably wouldn't have seen it. Now the CCTV footage didn't go as far as to where exactly he went; but we managed to get the last street name and warehouse he went pass, before the cameras go out." Lestrade told him about what the warehouse used to be for, then glanced up at John and saw how his eyes wouldn't move from the screen. "If you want, I can send my team to cover that area and see what's there?" Said Lestrade, trying to get some reaction out of John._

_John just shook his head and said, "No point, all that's there is an old homeless unit. I doubt the hoodie would still be there." But John knew he wouldn't be there, unless he was desperate. "Might as well forget it. Probably just seeing if there was anywhere he could out or something." John tried to humour Lestrade with that last sentence. Knowing that any kind of joke he said at the moment would make everyone less weary about him._

"_Yeah. Ok." Lestrade said worriedly. Obviously John's attempt of a joke wasn't enough. "Well I guess that's it then, I'll tell you when a new case comes up if you like?"_

"_Sure, that'll be great. Gives me an excuse to get out the flat." John startled to chuckle, and thankfully; so did Lestrade._

_11:00 am_

_The rest of the day seemed to go by like a flash. John tidied the flat, again! Whilst waiting for Mrs Hudson, who didn't show up till around 8:00 pm. John ate alone that night, whilst watching some rubbish telly; which was all that seemed to be on lately._

_Eventually he went to bed at about 10:30 pm, and this time he did have a dreamless sleep._

_7:30 am Sunday 21st July_

_John wake up, just as tired as he was when he went to bed. He was about to go to the bathroom, when a loud thudding came from the front room. John opened the door, thinking that it would be Lestrade with a new case; but instead found there was no-one there. He almost closed the door, when he saw the letter laying on the floor below him._

"_I'm sick of all these damn letters'!" He shouted, making most of the people walking down the street turn and look at him. With some of them even giving him dirty looks; making it look like he was insane._

_Something was different about this letter, it didn't have the same neat writing as the others; but instead the writing was scruffier. Also what was written inside was completely different from the other letters._

_*LETTER*_

_Dr Watson, I need to speak with you urgently. Over the past few months, my friend has been writing you letters to help you with your cases. I need you both to meet so that you can both clear the air, and understand what is going on. But I'll leave you with something to think about. "He's lost without his blogger." From Kathy._

_John stumbled back, shocked by the last few words that this person had written on the piece of paper. 'Lost without his blogger'. He remembered those words that someone had told him a long time ago. But he couldn't be who he was thinking about? Could it? He quickly shook it off, he was too tired to think about stuff that he knew was going to make him upset._

_10:30 pm_

_The entire day was a blur; John was acting like a zombie all day. By going through his daily routine, and not even realising it because he was so used to it. And because of all the drama that had been going on the past few days; his mind was so messed up from it that he couldn't think straight. All his mind seemed to go to, was the words left at the bottom of the letter. And who was Kathy? Was she working for Mycroft, or just some regular person walking among the streets?_

_John was about to head to bed, when the doorbell rang; along with four light knocks on the front door. This immediately brought John back to reality, and as he walked down the stairs; he could already see the letter hanging through the slot._

"_It's alright luv I'll get it." Mrs Hudson said whilst she left her room, only to find there was still no-one at the door. "Oh, they must of left. But there's one of those letters' for you again sweet heart."_

_This time, it was the neater writing all the previous letters had. And not the scruffy writing his last letter had been written in._

_*LETTER*_

_John, don't listen to what my accomplish wrote to you. Whatever she wrote it's nothing for you to concern yourself with. Also the murderer has also used another murder weapon. Possibly most likely located in her handbag (Which she never seems to let go of) Forever you friend-anomalous_

_John didn't know what to think now, but before he even had a chance to. Another knock came to the door. He swung it open, in case it was the anomalous tipper trying to run off again. But instead, it was a small young girl, wearing some scruffy clothes including some worn out jeans. And had her hood turned up against the rain._

"_Sorry I don't take clients anymore." John said whilst about to close the door on the girl. Not wanting to listen to what ever charity case she at that moment in time._

"_You're Dr Watson...right?" She looked at him, with large brown eyes, one of which was partly hidden by the fringe of her auburn hair._

"_Yes that'd me. Do you want something?" Asked John. Not knowing how this young girl could possibly know him. She extended her arm and hand out, in a way for them to greet properly by shaking hands._

"_Hello Dr Watson my names...Kathy. I wrote a letter to you earlier saying that I needed to speak with you." This girl, Kathy, now had a look of worry on her face as she saw how John's face had turned to complete shock and horror. She took back her arm, and then took a step back; in order to run in case something happened._

"_Wha...what do you want?" John said, his face still not changing as he addressed Kathy._

"_I need your help. It's...about someone I know?" Desperation was now across her face. "It's just that he's hurting someone by not telling them something. And I know a...army man like you can help him tell this person." She hesitated whilst trying to speak, but John hadn't noticed since he was still in shock from seeing her._

"_And what is it that he needs to tell...whoever it is?" He asked, half of him wondering if he should ignore this and shut the door; or keep listening and see where this goes. _

"_It's personnel...and complicated to him. I'd rather not say-but I know if you talk to him a bit he'll take your advice! He just needs to tell the person, or it'll carry on ruining his life. And I know he'll listen to you."_

_John hesitated for a while, not knowing which one of his options he should take. Whether he should trust this girl of what she was saying, or leave her to deal with this on her own._

"_Wait here a minute." John gestured with his finger to the girl to stay where she was. As soon as he said it, he was out the flat with his coat on; and started following Kathy._

_11:05 pm_

_John had been following this young girl for what seemed to be around half-an-hour, possibly even more. John wasn't really concentrating on the time. And they hadn't reached anywhere that was recognisable to John; and by the way Kathy kept looking wearily everywhere; it looked like she didn't know where they were going either._

_Then he saw it. The road that Lestrade had shown him on the CCTV footage the other day. And beside it, was the warehouse that he was telling John about. Then John realised who this girl was; she was homeless. A girl who looked about 14 years old-on the street begging for money. The thought made John feel nothing but sadness and sympathy for Kathy._

"_Can I ask you something?" John said suddenly, with a shaky voice making Kathy jump slightly front of him._

"_Depends on what." Explained Kathy, keeping her eyes in front of her; and not on John._

"_How old are you?" John asked, again; in a shaky voice._

_These made Kathy slow down, and keep pace with John. "15". She answered back. There was a short silence before John spoke again._

"_How did you end up like this?" He asked, looking at her._

"_I was abandoned...years ago. I didn't know where to go and then I found this place and met people who helped me." Her voice was beginning to get shaky. It sounded as if she was crying. "They taught me how to look after myself and...And have been like family to me over the years." John could see from the corner of his eye, that she had a smile on her face from what John assumed was happy memories._

"_When you say 'they'. Do you mean..."_

"_Homeless people, yes." She cut him off. But this brought an even bigger smile to her face. John thought it was because she was thinking of more happy memories, but then thought it might have been because John made himself look like an idiot saying what he did. John couldn't help but smile at his humiliation._

_11:15 pm_

"_Right! Here we are!" Kathy whispered. Slowing down to a complete stop, and constantly looking between John and a dim light coming from around the corner. When she next spoke, it was even quieter than before. "I'm going to go round there for a minute, to make sure that he's still there. Then I'm gonna come back and lead you the way for you. Is that ok?" She was now looking straight at John, who answered with a nod of the head before she walked off._

_She barely made any sort of noise when she. And to her promise, she was back within a minute; and took John's arm to lead him the way._

_As they turned the corner, the light blinded John a little as it suddenly got brighter. But only for a second. His eyes quickly adjusted, only to find the biggest surprise that John had seen for the past three months._

_Kathy was now between them both, unsure of what to do. The man's face was just as horrified and confused about how this could of happened, as John was. So John was the first to speak._

"_Sherlock?" John sounded more surprised than what he thought he was_

"_Hey, John." John had never seen Sherlock's face so worried before. And it turned even more so, as they both continued to stare at each other; into each other's eyes. Trying to make sense of all of this._

_Part 2 Sherlock's Story_

_8:00 am Thursday 19__th__ July_

_Staring at door 221b was excruciating for Sherlock. Not being able to be home, with the people he cared about was horrible-especially how John would be feeling on this particular day of all days. He knew without even looking through the window, that John would have a card to put on the mantelpiece; as he does every year._

_The thought brought a smile to Sherlock. But it just as quickly disappeared, when he remembered the reason as to why he was here. Delivering a letter to help John solve his latest case. Sherlock then thought back to last night, when he was writing the letter; and how Kathy was too much of a dull mind to figure it out._

_*WEDNESDAY 18TH JULY*_

_11:27 pm_

"_So how did your 'funny little mind' figure out the case this time then?" Kathy said sarcastically, and obviously not at all interested._

"_Well it was the simple fact of looking this time! If you would have been there you would have realised that every wooden object in her home was made by her. And the way you can see that, is that in her shed she has the equipment to make wooden objects-despite the lack of wood in the shed. Now, all her projects have her initials scratched at the bottom of them, now the first thing you would think is that it was either something she bought and wanted to make sure no-one would mistake it for theirs, or a friend made or bought it her. But then you realise that none of them have a product or brand name engraved anywhere so buying it is out of the question. That idea was easy to deduct from. As you may not have known she only has two family members left-who she's not particularly close to. And how I know that, is that they're always abroad somewhere and all the pictures she has of them are at the bottom of an old box that doesn't look like it's been looked like in years. And the only pictures that she shows any sort of interest to are the pictures of her with what seems to be mother-and not her two cousins. And some of the pictures of her cousins are shredded indicating that she doesn't really want them in her life. And the wood too."_

"_Why want's wrong with the wood?" Kathy asked, now getting into his deductions._

"_It's not foreign wood, if it was a gift from one of her cousins it would have been foreign with the amount of time they spend abroad together. And from the state of her hands as well..."_

"_Let me guess-they have Maple dust on them?" She said sarcastically. _

"_Something along that line. But wrong! No she has a cut along her finger tips and a cut along her left hand, and if you'd looked at the wooden bird clock standing on the wall of her living room, you can see that the left side is jaggered-because she cut herself! So she killed the victim!"_

"_And I'm guessing you know why she killed him too, don't you?" Kathy said, now looking at the ceiling of the 'Vauxhall Arches'._

_Sherlock gave a small chuckle before answering, "He was in MI 6."_

_Kathy waited for more information, but got nothing so asked him. "You not going to tell me anymore?" Curiosity leaking through her voice._

"_Speaking from my brother's point of view. No! But she was after...certain information if you must, know." Sherlock then went back to finishing his letter to John, ceiled it up; ready to post._

_*END OF MEMORY*_

_Sherlock saw his opportunity to post the letter, and so lifted his hood; and got in the middle of the university students walking past 221b Bakers Street. And slid the letter through the slot, without making it too noticeable._

_8:35 am_

_Sherlock made it back to the 'Vauxhall Arches' quicker than usual, but as usual; he was as bored as ever and there was never anything to do. The boredom was basically eating at Sherlock. As he made it around the corner, he could see that half of the homeless where there, as opposed to when Sherlock left earlier today; they must of been off to beg for money. Sherlock thought that was tedious, so he pick-pocketed people instead-knowing he's get more money that way._

_Kathy had just woken up, he noticed by the way her hair was still frizzy. Meaning that she hadn't combed her fingers through her hair, as her morning goes._

_He walked over towards his blankets and mattress, which was right next to Kathy's; and sat there in silence till Kathy was fully awake. Once Kathy looked at him, she could tell by the look on his face that he was distressed._

"_So...how did the letter go?" She said, trying to bring a little light into the morning._

_Sherlock just shrugged and said, "It was fine." In an exhorted voice. They sat in silence a little longer, whilst Kathy arranged her things for the day._

_8:45 am_

"_You know...I can tell something's bothering you." Kathy said, pausing to see if he'd react, and when he didn't she carried on. "I think if you write a different type of letter saying you're alright, or even go to the house and..."_

"_I can't do that and you I can't Kathy!" Snapped Sherlock, the look of distress showing even more than before, and tears started to form in the corner of his eyes. Which he wiped away fiercely with the back of his hand. "No-one can know-ok! Just because your simple mind is incapable of seeing things that are important and can't see past caring and misjudgement doesn't mean working minds like mine make that mistake!" Sherlock didn't mean to be so frustrated with her, but he didn't want to have this conversation with her again. She brings it up all the time. He then curled himself up into a ball and slumped himself down against the wall, on top of his worn out blankets'._

_All there was the sound of was passing cars in the background, and the sound of peoples' feet going back and forth through the 'Arches'._

"_So you coming to work today or you just gonna sulk in your blankets' all day!" Kathy said, sounding angry with Sherlock now, but still waited for him to answer._

"_No." Sherlock said in a deep husky voice. He knew what she really meant by 'work'. It was a term everyone in the 'Arches' used. When they said 'work', they really meant begging; they just said work to make them feel as if they've earned the money. Sherlock just found it a waste of time. "It's ridiculous that you're begging for money, just for him over there to steal it off you!" Sherlock nodded to the scruffy old man, who was looking wearily around him to see if anyone saw him take one of his neighbours' cans._

"_So you don't care then, is that it?" Kathy was getting tired of him now, so stood up getting ready to leave._

"_Will caring help any of these people?" Asked Sherlock, sounding more distant than before._

"_It might!"_

"_Then I choose not to care! Since you don't even know yourself." Sherlock said in a more mocking tone, but a serious face. He didn't care if he hurt her feelings' as she stormed off towards the main road._

_9:00 am_

_Sherlock couldn't think of anything to do, and he'd been pacing around the 'Arches' for about 10 minutes because he was so bored. And he could think about though, was John; and started remembering the words he had said at his grave that day._

_*MEMORY*_

_John: - "I think you're the most human person in the world and ummm...I was so alone before I met you. And I owe you so much. And I don't believe what you said on the roof that day." John started to walk away, before he turned back around and faced Sherlock's tomb again. "And just one more, one more trick for me Sherlock. Just...don't. Don't be dead...please for me." Those last words were merely a whisper, as he started crying and quickly turned and walked towards Mrs Hudson._

_*END OF MEMORY*_

_9:15 am_

_Sherlock was suddenly feeling something he hadn't felt before. Guilt. Guilt that he not only left his best friend-but his only friend in such a terrible way. Sherlock then stormed his way back towards his blankets', picked up his pen and a piece of paper; and started writing another letter to John._

_There was nothing else he needed to tell John on the case, so instead, Sherlock wrote a few lines about why he had been writing to him. Saying he didn't want anything in return for it. And without realising, he signed the letter, 'Forever your friend'. But he didn't change it. And so ceiled it up in the envelope, and planned how he was going to post it this time._

_10:00am_

_Sherlock was standing outside 221b Bakers Street, well across from it; in the hidden ally no-one could see. He'd seen John walk out the flat about 10 minutes' before, not even bothering to call for a taxi; but instead started to walk to the police station._

_Sherlock usually watched John go in and out of the flat-and sometimes followed him around some places. But every time he saw John's face, a warm feeling started to spread across his whole body; but he still wasn't able to figure out what this feeling was exactly. But he didn't want it to leave and it only seemed that seeing John brought on this feeling too._

_Sherlock knew Mrs Hudson would be in her room, talking to another one of her irritable friends' on the phone. So Sherlock was able to sneak in without her knowing. John always kept the top back window open during the day, and with Sherlock's height; it was easy for him to reach the fire escape._

_Once inside the living room, Sherlock placed the letter on the coffee table; which was next to a pile of newspapers'. Looking at them, Sherlock could see that they dated back to three months ago. He was about to leave, then he saw the card. He quickly went over to read it, and saw the words 'Wish you were here mate', sqwarled largely in the middle of the card. He suddenly got the urge to snoop around the flat and see how everything was. John's bedroom-tidy as usual. At least his time in the army made him tidy. His bedroom-not changed one bit. The only change he noticed was the smell of washing up powder, other than that; his room was just as he left. He was sure that John was the one who didn't want it changed or moved; or for Mrs Hudson to throw anything out. The thought made Sherlock smirk._

_He knew he had to leave, John could of been coming back by now; and he couldn't risk John seeing him. He left the way he came out, taking one last look at home before he did so. Again there was a group of people he lingered behind. Making sure they, and everyone else, didn't see him come from behind Bakers Street. He decided to wait behind in the hidden ally, and wait till John came home; hiding further in the shadows as he did._

_11:19 am_

_Sherlock saw John, speed walking towards the flat. John's eyes were filled with tears. Again, Sherlock felt guilt. How much he wanted to go up to John, and tell him that everything was going to be alright. Tell him the truth, about everything. It hurt him seeing John in this state. So he ran back to the 'Arches'._

_11:35 am_

_He made it back to the 'Arches', and hid under his worn out blankets'; so no-one could see him crying, silently. He stayed like this for a while, letting the tears fall till he calmed down; and was able to collect his thoughts together._

_12:00 pm_

"_Sherlock?" A distant voice said. "Sherlock is that you under there?" Concern was in this person's voice. Sherlock pulled the blankets' from over his head and could see Kathy's face, looking at his intently. He stumbled back, putting a little more distance between them. "Are you ok, I've never seen you crying before?" She said whilst running her fingers though her hair. Removing the strands from her face, to see Sherlock better._

"_What makes you think I crying! Anyway it's none of you concern or business!" He kept his face as serious as he could, trying to get her of his back. "Anyway you're no-one to judge, you're the one who's been taking money off strangers to feed all these incapable twats. Let me guess, some more drug dealing I imagine. With those gang members bullying you to get some more 'gear' for them. Because your flushed cheeks are telling lots right now!"_

_Kathy stared at him with wide eyes-which Sherlock could tell was shock, then she shook her head-Sherlock could only take as disappointment. Sherlock had hurt her a lot this time. HeLetters To John_

_Thursday 19th John's Story_

_8:05 am_

_John Watson sat silently in his apartment chair; staring distantly at the chair opposite him. The chair that his best friend used to sit on. The chair that belonged to Sherlock Holmes._

_It had been three months since the 'incident', and John still wasn't able to get himself to talk about it. "I still can't bare being in this flat without you, or anywhere really! You made my life something and...living it without you...I hate it." John whispered to Sherlock's chair. He ruffled his hand through his pocket, and pulled out a folded card._

_Slowly, he got up and placed the card onto the mantelpiece, and turned to face Sherlock's chair again. " Happy Birthday...Sherlock, I miss you," John said whilst having one hand placed on his chair-acting like it was actually Sherlock's arm._

_8:10 am_

_John's eyes were starting to sting, and his vision was getting blurry. He was crying. John ran to the bathroom, soaking his face in cold water. Three knocks came to the door._

"_Hiya luv. A letter just came for you in the post. Do you want it now, or would you like me to put it on the table." Mrs Hudson asked sweetly through the door._

"_Thank you Mrs Hudson, I'll be right out." John grabbed a towel and patted down his face. His eyes were now red-raw, so he kept his head down whilst receiving the letter._

_*LETTER*_

_Check Kadies shed for maple saw dust. Then check victims lung intake. Arrest Kadie - anomalise_

_John had been getting these letters for about 2 months now, and there was still no leads as to who had been getting them. "Did you see who post this." John asked; even though he knew what the answer was._

"_Sorry luv, I think it been there for a while. Are you alright, you're looking a little pale?" Mrs Hudson worried whilst trying to see John's face properly._

"_Yes...I'm fine Mrs Hudson. Just...you know...the day and all..."_

"_Oh it'll be fine luv, how's about I make us a cup of tea. Then you can go down to the police station, and work on that case a bit more." She said, whilst putting on a smile to help lighten the mood._

_10:50 am_

"_Good morning Dr Watson. Have you got anymore leads on this murder case?" DCI Lestrade immediately asked John as soon as he walked into his office._

"_Ummm yes, as a matter of fact I do." John passed Lestrade the letter, which he'd stuff in his pocket. "It came this morning, still no clue on who left it though." _

"_Yes, we've been trying to scan for finger prints, checked the CCTV...the works. But still...nothing." Lestrade looked up at John for the first time since he'd walked into his office, and instantly saw that he looked distressed. " John are you ok. You look kinda...distant?" _

"_It's his 36th today." John said straight after Lestrade asked. As soon as he blurted it out, John was automatically fighting back tears._

"_Oh John I'm sorry. I shouldn't of asked you to come in...I didn't know." Lestrade stared at John, looking for a reaction; but all John could return back was, "That's fine." Keeping his eyes fixed on the gray marble floor._

"_Why don't you go back home? I'll keep you updated on the case, and I'll tell you id there's any change...ok?" Lestrade said as sympathetically as he could._

"_Sure, sure. I'll drop by later and help out." John said with a half-hearted smile. As John was almost out the door, Lestrade suddenly said something that set John's tears off._

"_You know, who ever has been sending you these letters is a right genius. They've already solved two major cases for us. They must be able to get around a lot."_

_John quickly ran before any of them could see him crying. 'Cause all he could think about, was how much the letters reminded him of Sherlock. And how much he wanted him by his side right now._

_11:20 am_

_Slumping onto the sofa, John tried to think about his time in the army, and on the battlefield. Remembering all his friends abroad, and all the help he gave whilst working for the army. But his mind soon turned to the first time him and Sherlock met. And how he brought the battlefield back to John._

_He soon started thinking about their first case, 'A study in pink'. And the way Sherlock was able to tell John his whole life with just one look at John; deducting everyone and everything around them. And the way Sherlock helped cure his leg._

_11:25 am_

_John was so caught up in his memories, that he didn't realise that Mrs Hudson had been in till he heard the door slam. John was startled back into reality, realising that whilst he'd been remembering, he'd been smiling due to his memories; but tears had silently left his eyes. He wiped away the streaks his tears left on his cheeks, then he saw it. Another letter left from the anomalous tipper._

"_Mrs Hudson!" John shouted, no answer came back. "Mrs Hudson are you there?"_

_11:26 am_

"_Hello luv, did you call me?" Mrs Hudson asked whilst walking through the living-room door._

"_Yes, ummm when did this get here?" John asked, whilst gesturing towards the envelope._

"_Oh I don't know luv, it's the first I've heard of it." Mrs Hudson exclaimed. Leaving John in the room alone. He opened it eagerly, wanting to know the next clue for the case. But the letter didn't have anything about the case, but a letter about why:_

_*LETTER*_

_John, I have been writing to you for the passed two months; helping you with your enquiry's. I wish nothing in return, but for you to solve these cases. Remember that. Forever your friend-anomalous._

_John stared at the letter, confused as to why someone has written this and above all, why they wrote 'Forever your friend'. He didn't know this person let alone his name; and yet he's saying he's his friend. John just shoved the letter to the side, next to some old newspapers, grabbed his coat and headed out._

_2:45 pm_

_John had been walking around the city for hours now, and didn't realise where he was going till he looked up and saw the words 'Bartholomew's Hospital', clearly standing out from the building in front of him._

_2::50 pm_

_Opening the creaking the door, John looked upon the roof; in the exact place were his world came crashing down._

_He walked sheepishly to the edge on the roof, and sat on the spot. "I still don't believe what you said you know..." He said, looking distant-but talked as if Sherlock was right next to him. "...Nothing you could say or do could make me think any differently of you. I mean, you have no common sense whatsoever, you always think you can treat people the way you want just because you can see through them with one glance. And overall you're an arrogant sod!" John took a minute to think of his next words', breathing deeply as if preparing for a speech. "But you are the most human man I have ever met and I ummm...I owe you so much. I was so lonely before I met you, and I owe you so much. Whilst I was with you, all my problems seemed to disappear. Just Sherlock... do one more thing, one more trick for me just...don't. Don't be dead. Please. I bare it without you,"_

"_I thought I saw you come up here." Said a quite sweet voice, coming from behind John. He turned around to see her standing there with two cups of coffee with her._

"_Hi Molly. Yeah I just...needed to see something that's all." Molly sat down beside him, handing him his cup of coffee whilst they both thought of what to say._

"_I really miss him too." She started, with a dazed look. "I sometimes think about all the times he was in here; some good others bad." She said with a nervous laugh. She looked at John, who could tell she was getting ready for some advice; which John wasn't going to take-but listened anyway._

"_I sometimes talk to people about it you know. About what it is I miss or, if I just need a shoulder to cry on," Molly tried a smile, but saw that he was just looking at his cup; running rings around the edge of his cup with his thumb. " Do you need to talk about anything?" Molly clearly seemed worried about John, so he thought he'd get one thing off his chest._

"_He asked me to make him a coffee lat time we where here, but I told him to piss off." John looked up and they both started laughing; imagining the reaction on Sherlock's face when John said this. John gave a long sigh, and whispered. "He was my best friend."_

_Molly immediately went over and hugged John, just so that he could cry or at least hide his upset expression from her. Knowing that he wanted to keep his dignity._

_2:54 pm_

_They both were near the bottom of the stairs, when Molly quickly caught John's attention. "You know, if you ever need someone there for you. Or you just what to talk...you can come round here anytime you want!" She gave him a quick hug before waving him goodbye. Whilst walking home, John thought about what Molly said to him; he then found himself talking quietly to himself._

"_How can I talk to anyone about this? I witnessed my best friend dying. There is nothing to talk about. Why can't everyone just..." He got lost for words, which didn't matter now that he was home._

_3:56 pm _

_John waited in the living room for a bit, then rushed to the kitchen to make himself some tea and some Jam on toast. He knew he needed to eat, even if he wasn't hungry._

_4:10 pm_

_As soon as he'd eaten his food, a knock came to the door. John flew downstairs and opened it._

"_Well your tipper was right! Again! If we knew who he was, we could use him in the force with us." Lestrade said as soon as the door was opened. He'd obviously been working on this case all day. He looked at John and quickly changed his tone. "Look, if you want to be alone, I can leave if you want. I just thought you might want to know about the letters-"_

_Lestrade had trailed of, which made John more eager to know. "What about the letters?" John gestured Lestrade into the living-room, to know more about the letters._

"_Well we've got a photo of the person posting the letters. There was a second of CCTV footage, so, we took the picture and came over to show you." Lestrade looked at John's face whilst passing him the picture._

"_Does this person look formillia in any way?" John just took in the picture and answered with a simple, "No." But John felt weird looking at the picture, as if he knew who it was. The man in the picture was wearing hoodie (Obviously to hid his face), leather gloves and for some reason; what looked to be suit pants. "I find it amazing how this person can lurk in the shadows without being seen, none of the other cameras got anything," Lestrade looked at the floor. He was hoping John could tell him something. But apparently it seemed he was wrong._

"_I've got a question actually." John said, still gazing at the picture. "Why is this person wearing suit pants?I mean, usually; if you need a disguise you would wear something that's less noticeable, right?" Lestrade seemed taken back and confused at what John had said, so he took another look at the picture; and this time noticed the pants._

"_How did you see that? We've had dozens of people look at this and no-one has seen that!" Lestrade was truly amazed at John's deduction. "That's brilliant! Now we have a new lead, this is great!"_

_4:15 pm_

_John walked Lestrade to the door, whilst they discussed many more ways this piece of evidence can help them with so many more things. Mrs Hudson walked in at that point with a few bags of shopping; John helped her put it away. Then they both started to prepare some food for themselves. Mrs Hudson usually ate with John, but only to make sure he did eat._

_5:20 pm_

_After eating their tea, John offered to clear everything away, and for Mrs Hudson to put her feet up for a while._

_5:30 pm _

_John had cleared the plates and put them away now. But no matter how much he tried to keep himself busy with chores and work, he couldn't get the photo out of his head; it's almost as if he knew the man in the picture. But he couldn't figure out why._

_He suddenly thought of Sherlock,and walked over to the mantelpiece; once again, staring at Sherlock's chair._

"_Well I'm going to go and do some work, so ummm...I'm gonna go to my room. Just don't forget what I said...on th roof of the hospital. Ok?" John started walking off, but stopped and turned to face Sherlock's chair again. "Happy Birthday Sherlock. I wish you were here." _

_He didn't even bother getting changed by the time he was finished with his jobs; he just plumited himself on the top of his bed, and soon started drifting into a dreamless sleep._

_3:49 am Friday 20 h July_

_John woke up due to a sudden banging, coming from the inside of his room._

"_Mrs Hudson? Is that you?" John asked confused and as soon as he spoke, the banging stopped; and a dark figure ran out of his bedroom and towards the front door. John started running after the mysterious person, making it to the wide open door only find that the dark figure was already turning the corner from the road. John sprinted in his direction, and seeing, that as soon as turning the corner; the dark figure had disappeared._

_Everywhere was empty and dark, and John could feel himself getting dizzy and tired-do to his running. He turned around and walked back to the flat. Turning frequently to see if the figure had turned back._

_John bolted the door as well as all the windows. Once he thought it was safe enough, he walked back up to his room;only to be shaken at the image in front of him. A letter was there. It had been placed on his window-ledge, exactly where the dark figure had been just moments ago. He wasn't sure what would be inside when he opened it. Weather it be about the case, or the tipper to be explaining why again. He even considered throwing it away._

_But instead, tore the sandy coloured paper open, not knowing what to expect from the prvious. And started reading it._

_*LETTER*_

_John, I'm sorry that I broke into your flat; but I needed give you this letter urgently. I just want to say thank you...for what you said before. That's all. Also you need to lock the door at night again, you know how paranoid you get. (I came through the living room window) Forever you friend-anomalous._

_3:50 am_

_John just sat on the edge of his bed, not able to make sense of the letter. But he felt to tired to think about it though; and soon started drifting into unconsciousness; whilst his mind wondered about both the picture and the most recent of letters. But he soon started thinking about the dark figure, and remembered how tall he was._

_8:50 am_

_*DREAM*_

_John was running through a gray fog, but he wasn't sure if he was running away from something. Or towards someone. The more he ran, the thicker and darker the fog seemed to get. He soon found himself lost, and couldn't find anything to help him._

"_Hello!" He shouted, "Is there anyone there?Please?" He began to panic, and turned around in circles, but couldn't see a thing._

"_Don't worry John. Everything's going to be fine just...calm down." Said a deep husky voice coming from the lightest part of the graying fog._

"_Who's there?" John questioned. Worry spreading over his entire body. John could see a dark figure emerge from the fog, from where the voice from before had come from. But the figure that came from the fog, was the dark figure he had chased before. But he sounded formillia. Then John saw his face. A face that was formillia to John. A face that belonged to..._

_*REALITY*_

_John awoke from his dream all sweaty and paranoid._

"_John, luv." Mrs Hudson's knocking and talking is what woke John up. "Is everything alright, you're not usually in bed this long?" Worry was obvious in her voice. John got up and fell to the floor with a thud as he did. But got back up in a flash, and stepped out of his bedroom; looking at the worried Mrs Hudson._

"_Yes, yes I'm fine Mrs Hudson just ummm...got woken up quite early last night, and took me a while to get back off to sleep." John said, hoping she wouldn't stress the matter anymore._

"_Are you catching a cold?" Surprise was now on her face._

"_No, why do you ask?" John asked whilst heading towards the kitchen to make some tea._

"_It's just that you're looking quite pale...and scared. Are you sure you're fine?" _

"_Yes, Mrs Hudson I'm fine!" John said, noticing his eyes were stinging a little. "Would you like some tea?" John offered her._

"_None for me luv, I'm off 's this big charity shop, opening. And they're making the first day special. My friend is actually one of the owners' of it actually, you know I..."_

"_Yes Mrs Hudson if you would excuse me, I'm going to get into the shower." John said to Mrs Hudson, cutting her off from what she was about to say. And walked away before she could start talking again._

_9:15 am_

_John spent an extra 5 minutes in the shower, as a way to calm himself down a bit. After stepping out of the shower-fully dried and dressed; John more awake and refreshed from the scare he had from his dream. But he was still worrying himself about what happened last night, and started asking himself questions like: Was the door locked? Why is this person saying there my friend? Why does he look so formillia? How did they know that I don't usually lock the door?_

_Checking his phone, John had three missed calls. All off Lestrade. So John immediately called him back._

_*INCOMING CALL*_

"_**Hey, Lestrade?"**_

"_**Hi John, I was wondering if you could come down to the station. There's something I think you'd want to see."**_

"_**Ummm...sure I'll be there as soon as."**_

_The line went dead after that, so he grabbed his coat and headed out the door; when he got outside he stuck out his arm for a taxi. But immediately retracted it. He didn't want to be in a taxi, not without Sherlock._

_He hadn't been in a taxi since the day of the 'incident', he didn't feel right being in a taxi alone. Didn't feel right to be in one without Sherlock. Instead, he walked everywhere._

_10:05 am_

_He reached the station, and started making his way up the stairs. When he ran into Sergeant Donovan._

"_Oh, hello John! I haven't seen you for a while." She said cheerfully._

"_Yeah same here, I've just been walking around places...that's all." John explained. He'd been trying to avoid Donovan ever since the 'incident', he didn't like the way she thought of Sherlock._

"_Yeah...yeah. Anyway, I hear you're the person who's been solving all these cases. How'd you do it?" She had a genuine look of curiosity on her face, so he decided to tell her about the letters._

"_Well actually I've been having an anomalous tipper for all of them." Seeing the look of surprise on her face, he carried on. "They come through my letter slot whenever me and the police are out of our is pretty much always." John tried to put on a fake smile, in an attempt to make the conversation end. He walked off, not even looking back to see what Donovan's face was like; but went straight into Lestrade's office._

_10:10 am _

"_Ah, John there you are!I was wondering where you were-you took a while!" Lestrade was stacking some papers-pretending that he was busy, when really; he was just trying to impress his boss. Who was gazing at him from the opposite cubical._

"_Sorry, about that. I couldn't get a taxi." Said John, rooting through the pictures on Lestrade's desk; most of which included him and his wife. "So, what is it you wanted to show me?"_

"_Oh yeah just give me a minute."_

_10:12 am_

"_Right, we have some CCTV footage of that bloke you chased out you're house last night. If you'd like to have a look?" Lestrade explained whilst preparing the tape for John. John walked over to the other side of Lestrade's desk to watch. "As you can see, after the hoodie turned the corner he went down the alley just a opposite Baker Street. It's pretty much invisible, so you probably wouldn't of seen it. Now the CCTV footage didn't go as far as to where exactly he went; but we managed to get the last street name and warehouse he went pass, before the cameras go out." Lestrade told him about what the warehouse used to be for, then glanced up at John and saw how his eyes wouldn't move from the screen._

"_If you want, I can send my team to cover that area and see what's there?" Said Lestrade, trying to get some reaction out of John._

_John just shook his head and said, "No point, all that's there is an old homeless unit. I doubt the hoodie would still be there." But John knew he wouldn't be there, unless he was desperate. "Might as well forget it. Probably just seeing if there was anywhere he could out or something." John tried to humour Lestrade with that last sentence. Knowing that any kind of joke he said at the moment would make everyone less weary about him._

"_Yeah. Ok." Lestrade said worriedly. Obviously John's attempt of a joke wasn't enough. "Well I guess that's it then, I'll tell you when a new case comes up if you like?"_

"_Sure, that'll be great. Gives me an excuse to get out the flat." John startled to chuckle, and thankfully; so did Lestrade._

_11:00 am_

_The rest of the day seemed to go by like a flash. John tidied the flat, again! Whilst waiting for Mrs Hudson, who didn't show up till around 8:00 pm. John ate alone that night, whilst watching some rubbish telly; which was all that seemed to be on lately._

_Eventually he went to bed at about 10:30 pm, and this time he did have a dreamless sleep._

_7:30 am Sunday 21st July_

_John wake up, just as tired as he was when he went to bed. He was about to go to the bathroom, when a loud thudding came from the front room. John opened the door, thinking that it would be Lestrade with a new case; but instead found there was no-one there. He almost closed the door, when he saw the letter laying on the floor below him._

"_I'm sick of all these damn letters'!" He shouted, making most of the people walking down the street turn and look at him. With some of them even giving him dirty looks; making it look like he was insane._

_Something was different about this letter, it didn't have the same neat writing as the others; but instead the writing was scruffier. Also what was written inside was completely different from the other letters._

_*LETTER*_

_Dr Watson, I need to speak with you urgently. Over the past few months, my friend has been writing you letters to help you with your cases. I need you both to meet so that you can both clear the air, and understand what is going on. But I'll leave you with something to think about. "He's lost without his blogger."_

_From Kathy._

_John stumbled back, shocked by the last few words that this person had written on the piece of paper. 'Lost without his blogger'. He remembered those words that someone had told him a long time ago. But he couldn't be who he was thinking about? Could it? He quickly shook it off, he was too tired to think about stuff that he knew was going to make him upset._

_10:30 pm_

_The entire day was a blur, John was acting like a zombie all day. By going through his daily routine, and not even realising it because he was so used to it. And because of all the drama that had been going on the past few days; his mind was so messed up from it that he couldn't think straight. All his mind seemed to go to, was the words left at the bottom of the letter. And who was Kathy? Was she working for Mycroft, or just some regular person walking among the streets?_

_John was about to head to bed, when the door bell rang; along with four light knocks on the front door. This immediately brought John back to reality, and as he walked down the stairs; he could already see the letter hanging through the slot._

"_It's alright luv I'll get it." Mrs Hudson said whilst she left her room, only to find there was still no-one at the door. "Oh, they must of left. But there's one of those letters' for you again sweet heart."_

_This time, it was the neater writing all the previous letters had. And not the scruffy writing his last letter had been written in._

_*LETTER*_

_John, don't listen to what my accomplish wrote to you. What ever she wrote it's nothing for you to concern yourself with. Also the murderer has also used another murder weapon. Possibly most likely located in her handbag (Which she never seems to let go of) Forever you friend-anomalous_

_John didn't know what to think now, but before he even had a chance to. Another knock came to the door. He swung it open, incase it was the anomalous tipper trying to run off again. But instead, it was a small young girl, wearing some scruffy clothes including some worn out jeans. And had her hood turned up against the rain._

"_Sorry I don't take clients anymore." John said whilst about to close the door on the girl. Not wanting to listen to what ever charity case she at that moment in time._

"_You're Dr Watson...right?" She looked at him, with large brown eyes, one aof which was partly hidden by the fringe of her auburn hair._

"_Yes that'd me. Do you want something?" Asked John. Not knowing how this young girl could possibly know him. She extended her arm and hand out, in a way for them to greet properly by shaking hands._

"_Hello Dr Watson my names...Kathy. I wrote a letter to you earlier saying that I needed to speak with you." This girl, Kathy, now had a look of worry on her face as she saw how John's face had turned to complete shock and horror. She took back her arm, and then took a step back; in order to run incase something happened._

"_Wha...what do you want?" John said, his face still not changing as he addressed Kathy._

"_I need your help. It's...about someone I know?" Desperation was now across her face. "It's just that he's hurting someone by not telling them something. And I know a...army man like yourself can help him tell this person." She hesitated whilst trying to speak, but John hadn't noticed since he was still in shock from seeing her._

"_And what is it that he needs to tell...who ever it is?" He asked, half of him wondering if he should ignore this and shut the door; or keep listening and see where this goes. _

"_It's personnel...and complicated to him. I'd rather not say-but I know if you talk to him a bit he'll take your advice! He just needs to tell the person, or it'll carry on ruining his life. And I know he'll listen to you."_

_John hesitated for a while, not knowing which one of his options he should take. Whether he should trust this girl of what she was saying, or leave her to deal with this on her own._

"_Wait here a minute." John gestured with his finger to the girl to stay where she was. As soon as he said it, he was out the flat with his coat on; and started following Kathy._

_11:05 pm_

_John had been following this young girl for what seemed to be around half-an-hour, possibly even more. John wasn't really concentrating on the time. And they hadn't reached anywhere that was recognisable to John; and by the way Kathy kept looking wearily everywhere; it looked like she didn't know where they were going either._

_Then he saw it. The road that Lestrade had shown him on the CCTV footage the other day. And beside it, was the warehouse that he was telling John about. Then John realised who this girl was; she was homeless. A girl who looked about 14 years old-on the street begging for money. The thought made John feel nothing but sadness and sympathy for Kathy._

"_Can I ask you something?" John said suddenly, with a shaky voice making Kathy jump slightly in front of him._

"_Depends on what." Explained Kathy, keeping her eyes in front of her; and not on John._

"_How old are you?" John asked, again; in a shaky voice._

_This made Kathy slow down, and keep pace with John. "15". She answered back. There was a short silence before John spoke again._

"_How did you end up like this?" He asked, looking at her._

"_I was abandoned...years ago. I didn't know where to go and then I found this place and met people who helped me." Her voice was beginning to get shaky. It sounded as if she was crying. "They taught me how to look after myself and...and have been like family to me over the years." John could see from the corner of his eye, that she had a smile on her face from what John assumed was happy memories._

"_When you say 'they'. Do you mean..."_

"_Homeless people, yes." She cut him off. But this brought an even bigger smile to her face. John thought it was because she was thinking of more happy memories, but then thought it might of been because John made himself look like an idiot saying what he did. John couldn't help but smile at his humiliation._

_11:15 pm_

"_Right!Here we are!" Kathy whispered. Slowing down to a complete stop, and constantly looking between John and a dim light coming from around the corner. When she next spoke, it was even quieter than before. "I'm going to go round there for a minute, to make sure that he's still there. Then I'm gonna come back and lead you the way for you. Is that ok?" She was now looking straight at John, who answered with a nod of the head before she walked off._

_She barely made any sort of noise when she. And to her promise, she was back within a minute; and took John's arm to lead him the way._

_As they turned the corner, the light blinded John a little as it suddenly got brighter. But only for a second. His eyes quickly adjusted, only to find the biggest surprise that John had seen for the past three months._

_Kathy was now between them both, unsure of what to do. The man's face was just as horrified and confused about how this could of happened, as John was. So John was the first to speak._

"_Sherlock?" John sounded more surprised than what he thought he was_

"_Hey, John." John had never seen Sherlock's face so worried before. And it turned even more so, as they both continued continued to stare at each other; into each other's eyes. Trying to make sense of all of this._

_Thursday 19th July Sherlock's storey_

_8:00 am_

_Staring at door 221b was excruciating for Sherlock. Not being able to be home, with the people he cared about was horrible-especially how John would be feeling on this particular day of all day's. He knew without even looking through the window, that John would have a card to put on the mantelpiece; as he does every year._

_The thought brought a smile to Sherlock. But it just as quickly disappeared, when he remembered the reason as to why he was here. Delivering a letter to help John solve his latest case. Sherlock then thought back to last night, when he was writing the letter; and how Kathy was too much of a dull mind to figure it out._

_*WEDNESDAY 18TH JULY*_

_11:27 pm_

"_So how did your 'funny little mind' figure out the case this time then?" Kathy said said sarcastically, and obviously not at all interested._

"_Well it was the simple fact of looking this time! If you would of been there you would of realised that every wooden object in her home was made by her. And the way you can see that, is that in her shed she has the equipment to make wooden objects-despite the lack of wood in the shed. Now, all her projects have her initials scratched at the bottom of them, now the first thing you would think is that it was either something she bought and wanted to make sure no-one would mistake it for their's, or a friend made or bought it her. But then you realise that none of them have a product or brand name engraved anywhere so buying it is out of the question. That idea was easy to deduct from. As you may not of known she only has two family members left-who she's not particularly close to. And how I know that, is that they're always abroad somewhere and all the pictures she has of them are at the bottom of an old box that doesn't look like it's been looked like in years. And the only pictures that she shows any sort of interest to, are the pictures of her with what seems to be mother-and not her two cousins. And some of the pictures of her cousins are shredded indicating that she doesn't really want them in her life. And the wood too."_

"_Why want's wrong with the wood?" Kathy asked, now getting into his deductions._

"_It's not foreign wood, if it was a gift from one of her cousins it would of been foreign with the amount of time they spend abroad together. And from the state of her hands aswell..."_

"_Let me guess-they have Maple dust on them?" She said sarcastically._

"_Something along that line. But wrong! No she has a cut along her finger tips and a cut along her left hand, and if you'd looked at the wooden bird clock standing on the wall of her living room, you can see that the left side is jaggered-because she cut herself! So she killed the victim!"_

"_And I'm guessing you know why she killed him too, don't you?" Kathy said, now looking at the ceiling of the 'Vauxhall Arches'._

_Sherlock gave a small chuckle before answering, "He was in MI 6."_

_Kathy waited for more information, but got nothing so asked him. "You not going to tell me anymore?" Curiosity leaking through her voice._

"_Speaking from my brother's point of view. No! But she was after...certain information if you, must, know." Sherlock then went back to finishing his letter to John, ceiled it up; ready to post._

_*END OF MEMORY*_

_Sherlock saw his opportunity to post the letter, and so lifted his hood; and got in the middle of the university students walking past 221b Bakers Street. And slid the letter through the slot, without making it too noticeable._

_8:35 am_

_Sherlock made it back to the 'Vauxhall Arches' quicker than usual, but as usual; he was as bored as ever and there was never anything to do. The boredom was basically eating at Sherlock. As he made it around the corner, he could see that half of the homeless where there, as apposed to when Sherlock left earlier today; they must of been off to beg for money. Sherlock thought that was tedious, so he pick-pocketed people instead-knowing he's get more money that way._

_Kathy had just woken up, he noticed by the way her hair was still frizzy. Meaning that she hadn't combed her fingers through her hair, as her morning goes._

_He walked over towards his blankets and mattress, which were right next to Kathy's; and sat there in silence till Kathy was fully awake. Once Kathy looked at him, she could tell by the look on his face that he was distressed._

"_So...how did the letter go?" She said, trying to bring a little light into the morning._

_Sherlock just shrugged and said, "It was fine." In an exhorted voice. They sat in silence a little longer, whilst Kathy arranged her things for the day._

_8:45 am_

"_You know...I can tell something's bothering you." Kathy said, pausing to see if he'd react, and when he didn't she carried on. "I think if you write a different type of letter saying you're alright, or even go to the house and..."_

"_I can't do that and you I can't Kathy!" Snapped Sherlock, the look of distress showing even more than before, and tears started to form in the corner of his eyes. Which he wiped away fiercely with the back of his hand. "No-one can know-ok! Just because your simple mind is incapable of seeing things that are important and can't see past caring and misjudgment doesn't mean working minds like mine make that mistake!" Sherlock didn't mean to be so frustrated with her, but he didn't want to have this conversation with her again. She brings it up all the time. He then curled himself up into a ball and slumped himself down against the wall, on top of his worn out blankets'._

_All there was the sound of was passing cars in the background, and the sound of peoples' feet going back and forth through the 'Arches'._

"_So you coming to work today or you just gonna sulk in your blankets' all day!" Kathy said, sounding angry with Sherlock now, but still waited for him to answer._

"_No." Sherlock said in a deep husky voice. He knew what she really meant by 'work'. It was a term everyone in the 'Arches' used. When they said 'work', they really meant begging; they just said work to make them feel as if they've earned the just found it a waste of time. "It's ridiculous that you're begging for money, just for him over there to steal it off you!" Sherlock nodded to the scruffy old man, who was looking wearily around him to see if anyone saw him take one of his neighbours' cans._

"_So you don't care then, is that it?" Kathy was getting tired of him now, so stood up getting ready to leave._

"_Will caring help any of these people?" Asked Sherlock, sounding more distant than before._

"_It might!"_

"_Then I choose not to care! Since you don't even know yourself." Sherlock said in a more mocking tone, but a serious face. He didn't care if he hurt her feelings' as she stormed off towards the main road._

_9:00 am_

_Sherlock couldn't think of anything to do, and he'd been pacing around the 'Arches' for about 10 minutes because he was so bored. And he could think about though, was John; and started remembering the words he had said at his grave that day._

_*MEMORY*_

_John:- "I think you're the most human person in the world and ummm...I was so alone before I met you. And I owe you so much. And I don't believe what you said on the roof that day." John started to walk away, before he turned back around and faced Sherlock's tomb again. "And just one more, one more trick for me Sherlock. Just...don't. Don't be dead...please for me." Those last words were merely a whisper, as he started crying and quickly turned and walked towards Mrs Hudson._

_*END OF MEMORY*_

_9:15 am_

_Sherlock was suddenly feeling something he hadn't felt before. Guilt. Guilt that he not only left his best friend-but his only friend in such a terrible way. Sherlock then stormed his way back towards his blankets', picked up his pen and a piece of paper; and started writing another letter to John._

_There was nothing else he needed to tell John on the case, so instead, Sherlock wrote a few lines about why he had been writing to him. Saying he didn't want anything in return for it. And without realising, he signed the letter, 'Forever your friend'. But he didn't change it. And so ceiled it up in the envelope, and planned how he was going to post it this time._

_10:00am_

_Sherlock was standing outside 221b Bakers Street, well across from it; in the hidden ally no-one could see. He'd seen John walk out the flat about 10 minutes' before, not even bothering to call for a taxi; but instead started to walk to the police station._

_Sherlock usually watched John go in and out of the flat-and sometimes followed him around some places. But everytime he saw John's face, a warm feeling started to spread across his whole body; but he still wasn't able to figure out what this feeling was exactly. But he didn't want it to leave, and it only seemed that seeing John brought on this feeling too._

_Sherlock knew Mrs Hudson would be in her room, talking to another one of her irritable friends' on the phone. So Sherlock was able to sneak in without her knowing. John always kept the top back window open during the day, and with Sherlock's height; it was easy for him to reach the fire escape._

_Once inside the living room, Sherlock placed the letter on the coffee table; which was next to a pile of newspapers'. Looking at them, Sherlock could see that they dated back to three months ago. He was about to leave, then he saw the card. He quickly went over to read it, and saw the words 'Wish you were here mate', sqwarled largely in the middle of the card. He suddenly got the urge to snoop around the flat and see how everything was. John's bedroom-tidy as least his time in the army made him tidy. His bedroom-not changed one bit. The only change he noticed, was the smell of washing up powder, other than that; his room was just as he left. He was sure that John was the one who didn't want it changed or moved; or for Mrs Hudson to throw anything out. The thought made Sherlock smirk._

_He knew he had to leave, John could of been coming back by now; and he couldn't risk John seeing him. He left the way he came out, taking one last look at home before he did so. Again there was a group of people he lingered behind. Making sure they, and everyone else, didn't see him come from behind Bakers Street. He decided to wait behind in the hidden ally, and wait till John came home; hiding further in the shadows as he did._

_11:19 am_

_Sherlock saw John, speed walking towards the flat. John's eyes were filled with tears. Again, Sherlock felt guilt. How much he wanted to go up to John, and tell him that everything was going to be alright.. Tell him the truth, about everything. It hurt him seeing John in this state. So he ran back to the 'Arches'._

_11:35 am_

_He made it back to the 'Arches', and hid under his worn out blankets'; so no-one could see him crying, silently. He stayed like this for a while, letting the tears fall till he calmed down; and was able to collect his thoughts together._

_12:00 pm_

"_Sherlock?" A distant voice said. "Sherlock is that you under there?" Concern was in this person's voice. Sherlock pulled the blankets' from over his head and could see Kathy's face, looking at his intently. He stumbled back, putting a little more distance between them. "Are you ok, I've never seen you crying before?" She said whilst running her fingers though her hair. Removing the strands from her face, to see Sherlock better._

"_What makes you think I crying! Anyway it's none of you concern or business!" He kept his face as serious as he could, trying to get her of his back. "Anyway you're no-one to judge, you're the one who's been taking money off strangers to feed all these incapable twats. Let me guess, some more drug dealing I imagine. With those gang members bullying you to get some more 'gear' for them. Because your flushed cheeks are telling lots right now!"_

_Kathy stared at him with wide eyes-which Sherlock could tell was shock, then she shook her head-Sherlock could only take as disappointment. Sherlock had hurt her a lot this time. He knew she didn't won't to deal drugs-but it was the only way someone her age and homeless could make money in London. So she started to slowly walk away from Sherlock, and towards the other exit in the 'Arches'._

"_You know, just because you have pitiful problems doesn't mean you have to bring everyone down with you!" Kathy shouted before turning the corner._

_Sherlock too stormed off towards the streets, taking the usual corner and not the one Kathy just used; going to do his usual pick-pocketing. He doesn't steal a person's entire wallet, but enough that they won't notice anything is missing. He knows which people have more money by his simple deductions. He looks at what people are wearing mostly; usually the higher class women would be wearing more jewellery around their necks and ears. And they'd be wearing more high street market clothes-from the private shops. And for men, it would be watches and shoes they'd be wearing. Their watches would have more accessories on them, and have the brand name engrave on the rim of the clock. And they'd be wearing trainers that come up to their ankles because they got the size bigger; usually with the brand name Nike or something just as idiotic._

_For people who have won their money, they would have gone over the top with want they were wearing with loads of accessories and make up. For people who have had their money for a while, they'd be wearing more classy clothes. And for people who'd have had their money come from a loss in the family (Most likely an older relative), they would be wearing classy and everyday clothes; but they'd have a distant look about them, indicating they are still grieving; but are trying to move past it._

_2:30 pm_

_Sherlock only usually spends an hour pick-pocketing, but found himself wondering around the city for over 2 hours; finding any potential people to pick-pocket from. When suddenly, something caught his eye. Coming from around the corner, on the other side of the road, was John; walking as if he'd been zombified._

_Sherlock froze against the wall, staring at John as he slowly walked past him-not looking up from the floor. Sherlock started to follow him, wanting to know where he was going since he never comes to this part of the city. But he was also following him, because it reminded him of when he used to follow him when everyone knew he was still alive-when they were working on a case together. He kept his distance in case John decided to turn back around, that way Sherlock could lower his hood over his face a bit more._

_2:45 pm_

_Sherlock stopped outside the building John had just entered, scared that he'll be noticed or seen. 'Bartholomew's Hospital'. He didn't want to be reminded of this, not yet anyway. He turned and began walking away, putting as much distance as he could from the hospital; but also Molly. He knew if she saw him, she'd run straight to John, and tell. Then what was he going to do?_

_3:50 pm_

_Sherlock had been walking back to the 'Arches' for some time now, his mind was to stricken with thoughts of the 'incident'; that he didn't really know what he was doing. But he was pick-pocketing along the way, so he was glad that he was able to control some part of his mind. Once turning the corner, he could see Kathy on her mattress, counting out what she'd been given today. _

_He took a long sigh, and walked over towards his mattress, and sat next to her. They just stared at her money; but after a while, Sherlock added half of the money he'd gotten today onto the pile. And continues to stare at it._

"_You okay?" Kathy asked, with the voice and look of exhaustion. Sherlock just nodded and replied, "You?" Still looking at the pile._

"_I'm fine." She took a moment to speak again, looking at Sherlock as she did. "Where'd you go, I've been back for over an hour and...You don't usually stay out longer than that?"_

"_I was..." Sherlock started. He was trying to make up an excuse to tell her, because he didn't like it when people tried to get involved with his life (With the exception of one person). But it didn't help that all his mind could think of was the truth. "...following John." There was a short silence, before Kathy spoke._

"_Where to?" She asked, trying to save the conversation._

"_The hospital." His voice seemed to crack when he said this. This even surprised him._

"_Did you go in?" The sound of surprise was flowing out of her._

"_No." Sherlock said in his deep husky voice. But this time, he sounded more like a child trying to get out of trouble, whilst fighting back tears._

_The conversation ended there, and the rest of the day seemed to go by quickly._

_2:50 am Friday 21st July_

_Sherlock couldn't, more than usual. He'd been up all night because he could feel something in the back of his mind; but he didn't know what. It felt like a bug was crawling and eating away at the back of his brain. He didn't know what quit brought this on, but he began writing a letter to John. But this time, it was to thank him for what he said. He didn't give any clues as to what it was that John said to make him thank him, he didn't want to give anything away. Once he'd finished, he began walking towards 221b Bakers Street._

_3:45 am_

_He waited outside in the ally way, wondering if he should post it as usual, or go inside and put it somewhere John could see it._

_He went around the back, hoping that the window would still be open. To his luck it was. He snuck in, finding a good place for the letter on the coffee table again; when he thought came to mind. He needed to see if this would work, he walked into John's room; and saw him lying across his bed. Still with his clothes on. Sherlock couldn't stop staring, a feeling, stronger than the warm feeling he always has when he sees John, started to spread across his body. He sat down on the window ledge, and placed the letter next to him; where John could see it. He sat there, looking at John; seeing how peaceful he looked. John seemed more peaceful now than what he had been in the past 3 months._

_He knew he had to leave, but as he got up, he hit his leg on the leg of John's desk; and made a loud thud as he did._

_3:49 am_

_John was awake now, and was looking straight at Sherlock. Sherlock glad it was pitch-black in John's room; otherwise he would have seen Sherlock's face. He started to panic and didn't know what to do. So he just sprinted as fast as he could out of the flat; knowing that he was faster than John, so he would be able to out run him easily._

_He hid in a small gap, in between two houses around the corner, and waited for John's footstep's to fade away; and for him to slam the door shut._

_3:55 am_

_Sherlock waited a few minutes longer, to make sure John didn't linger back. Then he ran back to the 'Arches', as fast as he could._

_4:23 am_

_When he got back, everyone was still asleep, with only the scruffy old man sneaking around; seeing what he could find. Sherlock just shook his head in boredom, and walked to his blankets'; and lay down with his forehead against the wall. But no matter what he could do, he wasn't able to get to sleep. No matter what he thought of, whether it boring of relaxing, he couldn't fall asleep. But then he thought of something that instantly relaxed him; as well as giving him the warm feeling form the previous days'. It was the memory of seeing John so peaceful before._

_6:30 am_

_When he woke up, more people were up and about, getting ready for their daily 'work'. His eyes were getting heavier the longer he lay down, then Kathy's voice jolted him awake._

"_Where did you go last night?" I heard you running back here like...really early!" She said whilst packing her things. Sherlock just sat up, and began to rub his eyes; till his vision had cleared slightly._

"_I...I went out." He said, the whole event repeating in his mind like a broken record. "I went to post another letter."_

"_And what happened that was so wrong?" Kathy answered back, confusion, mock and frustration in her voice. She shrugged her shoulders of if to say, 'Get over it'._

"_I'm sorry!" He looked at Kathy, knowing she was about to make another rant about nothing. All ready knowing what she was referring to when she spoke. But all of what she said next took Sherlock off guard since it wasn't what he was expecting._

"_You just don't get it Sherlock!" Kathy shouted, it echoed through the 'Arches'. "Everything will be better if you just talk to him, tell him..." She paused, trying to find her words. She saw that Sherlock was about to speak; so she cut him off before he could do. "You're just so caught up in your own bloody world, of proving you're better than everyone by showing off how good you can steal; and posting your bloody letters' whilst being unnoticed that...! You don't see how much everyone around here is basically bending over backwards for you! But you're too arrogant and stupid! That you don't see how much of a pain in the arse, you are to, EVERYONE!" She took a moment to catch her breath, before turning to face the opposite way of Sherlock. "You just..." She started, then stopped again. She sighed and turned back to face Sherlock, who had a look of surprise on his face. She used a much quieter voice when speaking to him this time. "...you can't carry on like this anymore. You're hurting people."_

"_I'm hurting people?" Sherlock asked in a questioning, yet mocking voice and serious face. "I'm not the one who's lying to her family by saying that you've moved in with a close friend when really, you're letting people bully you into making you sell drugs for them. Which everybody in this damn place steals and uses it for meaningless things like calling loved ones, or things just as ridiculous!" Sherlock finished with his own rant. They both looked away from each other whilst they calmed down._

_6:45 am_

"_Did he see your face?" Kathy whispered after a while, trying to change the subject. Sherlock didn't know how she knew how John could have seen his face; but decided not to ask._

"_I don't think so. Otherwise he would have shouted something." His voice was also quiet, mainly because he didn't want to talk about it though. _

_Kathy then thought of something to talk about. Something that she should of told Sherlock ages ago. It was something true, so she knew he wouldn't be able to read her mind on the matter. But she then decided to turn it into a game, to mess with his head a bit. But also for pay back for what he said before._

"_You know you talk in your sleep." She said playfully Sherlock just continued to stare at her, obviously unaware of this. She smirked and carried on speaking. "Yeah ummm…you've been doing it more recently too. You usually talk about your old cases, and how you solved them. Once in a while you talked about Moriarty, and how he's ruined everything. And how you could of proved you're smarter than he is." She paused, and looked at Sherlock. And saw how startled he was. "But mostly…and most recently. You've been talking about Dr Watson. And you've said some…certain things, whilst talking about him._

"_What certain things do I say?" Sherlock asked, after a minute of silence. He sounded shocked by the sudden bit of news. Scared if what he had been dreaming, he'd said out loud. Kathy smirked again, but then turned to give him a sympathetic smile._

"_I think you know what. In the back of your…funny little mind it's there. You've just got to find it and say it for real." She walked off, for her 'work', after that. Leaving Sherlock scared at what he could of possibly said. His mind had gone blank to all the possibilities. Even going to his mind palace; he couldn't find it._

_The rest of the day went by quickly. Sherlock watched as people came and went over the hours. But Sherlock was fixed where he was. Sitting in exactly the same place where Kathy left him, thinking about what she said. Even when trying to get his mind off it, by reading some of his books didn't help. There would be a line, or even a word that would remind him of John._

_6:10pm _

_Sherlock had been sitting in his blankets' for about three hours now, and still nothing came to mind about what Kathy said. _

_The scruffy old man had been sneaking around the 'Arches', seeing what people had of value that he could take. Sherlock had been sitting in the dark so no-one would disturb him, so it was no surprise that the scruffy old man didn't see him; as he wondered over to Kathy's side. The scruffy old man must of seen something he liked, because his eyebrows lifted in surprise, as well as the fact that he looked around to see if anyone was watching him. When Sherlock stopped him._

"_I wouldn't do that if I were you." He said whilst taking one glance at the scruffy old man, then looked away again; with his hands pressed together. The scruffy old man jumped at the surprise of his voice, and seemed to of gotten scared as he stared at Sherlock, with wide eyes._

"_I don't know what you're talking about!" The scruffy old man said quickly, as in an attempt to save himself._

"_So…you don't realise that you've been stealing off everybody else for the past what? Three months, probably more, I've not really lived here that long. But what fascinates me is that everyone still believes your lies that whenever you ask for money; it's for your children. Which you and I both know, you haven't any nor can have children now can you! When really what you're really doing, is spending it on brothels and other degrading places." Sherlock was staring ahead, not bothering to poison his eyes with the sight of this so called man. He didn't even care for thee shocked expression on the scruffy old man's face._

_#"How…how do you…" The scruffy old man started shakily, paranoid at how much Sherlock knew. Before Sherlock cut him off._

"_Well the fact you always come back here with flushed cheeks whenever you've visited one of those places, and that you're paranoid when you come back as well as the day after because of the bite marks left on your neck and shoulders and where ever else you hid yourself. So if I were you…I would stop with your lies and idiotic ways, because I'm not stupid I know that this has been happening. And leave know!" Sherlock said venomously. _

_The old man began walking away, just as Sherlock muttered, "Pathetic!" The scruffy old man must of heard this, because he stopped where he was before walking off again._

_6:42pm_

_Kathy returned from her 'work', but today she came back with a bag; which Sherlock assumed was possibly food. Once she saw Sherlock, she glared at him and started shaking her head, in what seemed to be annoyance._

"_Have you even moved since I left?" She said, still glaring at him._

"_No." Sherlock tried his best to drown her out; but her glaring was getting on his nerves. "Fine! What have I done wrong now?" He asked; wanting her do get her rant over and done with so he could go back to thinking._

"_You're supposed to do your part around her too you know! Sitting around-sulking isn't helping with anything!" She started emptying her bag. When she looked at Sherlock, he was still gazing ahead._

"_I got you something." Kathy sighed, glancing at Sherlock who was now looking at her from the corner of his eyes. So she gave him a loaf a bread and a jar of strawberry jam. "I can make you jam on toast if you want? It's just; in one of your sleeps you mentioned jam on toast. So I thought I'd make some." Kathy shrugged, whilst placing some more stuff out._

_Sherlock picked up the jar of jam and started laughing. A deep laugh that echoed through the entire Arches'. Kathy looked at him confused. On whether he was laughing at her, or if he'd actually lost his mind. She looked around, wondering if it was something in the distance; but there was nothing but the dark tunnel and corner._

"_What the hell are you laughing at?" Kathy asked a part of her wanting to leave, and another part wanting to laugh along. Since this was the first time she'd ever heard him laugh._

"_It's just…" Sherlock laughed some more and then caught his breath. "Jam on toast is John's favourite snack. He has it every day!" Sherlock stopped laughing and instead started smiling at the memory. Kathy shook her head in amusement, and gave out a small chuckle; this confused Sherlock. Who stopped smiling and stared at Kathy, with his eyebrows merged together._

"_What's so funny?" He asked her._

"_You. I guessing you still haven't figured out what you said in your sleep yet." This made her smile even more. Sherlock didn't reply, so Kathy started making some food._

_That night went by as usual; everyone helped each other out; except Sherlock. Who was just sitting in his blankets', deducting whatever went past. And the scruffy old man seemed to not be walking out as much. Which pleased Sherlock; and everybody else really._

_11:40pm_

_The evening went by quietly, with the occasional police car rushing past. Sherlock was asleep, which amazed Kathy, since he never usually went to sleep this early. Kathy was just reading one of his books, hiding it in case he saw her take it. Then he started talking in his sleep again. Kathy just tried to ignore it._

_1:50am Sunday 21__st__ July_

_Kathy was still awake; she'd gotten really into the book she was reading of Sherlock's. Then Sherlock started talking in his sleep again, but it startled Kathy by what he was saying._

"_John, John I'm sorry!" He was crying in his silently. Kathy had been listening to him saying sorry over and over again for over a week. But Sherlock had never cried before. Kathy grabbed one of Sherlock's pieces of paper and his pen, still hiding it as she knew he didn't like people touching his stuff. Then she started writing a letter to Dr Watson._

_2:00 am_

_She didn't quite know what to write, but once she was happy with what she wrote; she ceiled it and started walking towards 221b Bakers Street._

_5:00am_

_Kathy didn't quite know her way to 221b Bakers Street (Or anywhere really), and got lost quite a few times. But she managed to find it eventually. She tan across the road, making sure there was no-one around before she posted it. Then started running back to the 'Arches'; even though she didn't fully know how to get back. But she stopped half way down the alley and thought about what Sherlock was going to say to her, and panicked. So she decided to start 'work' a little earlier, and make her way back to the 'Arches' later._

_9:15pm_

_Kathy finally knew where she was, and got back to the 'Arches' in no time after that. She brought back double her usual money from the previous days._

_Once she got back, Sherlock was sitting there, staring at her suspiciously. She tried her best to act like she hadn't done anything suspicious, but her hands couldn't help but shake whilst she was setting out her things._

"_Where did you go? I woke up around 4:00 and you weren't here!" Sherlock asked her once he saw her panic._

"'_Work'. You know that thing that everyone round here does! Well…everyone but you of course!" Kathy spitefully said. Trying to get him off her back by turning the blame on him. _

"_What've you done?" Sherlock said in a grave voice. She knew he was catching on, which wasn't really a surprise. But it made Kathy shake even more._

"_What you talking about? I've been at work." Kathy knew she gave it away that time, 'cause she answered too quickly. There was a short pause before Sherlock spoke again._

"_Ok then." His voice seemed deeper that time. "Let me ask you something else then. Why is there a piece of paper missing, and my pen been used?" He asked her. But when she didn't answer, but just stared ahead; he asked her a different question. "Who did you write to?" His voice sounded more serious than Kathy had heard it before. Kathy was shaking too much, and made the mistake of looking at him. His eyes seemed to pierce through her as he realised what she'd done. _

_His face turned to terror; as he realised who she'd written too. He started taking a few steps back, in disbelief._

"_Sher…Sherlock I'm sorry, but he I had to do something!" Kathy was at the brink of tears. A part of her feared Sherlock, and what he might do._

"_What did you say to him?" Sherlock shouted, worried more than ever. Kathy was hesitating, but for too long. She couldn't think of an excuse, let alone one that Sherlock would believe with his 'skills'. She couldn't him the truth though._

_Sherlock was terrified at what she could of possibly written. He was getting frustrated at the fact he didn't know, but also annoyed with her know, because she hadn't given him an answer yet. Till she finally came out with an answer._

"_I wrote to him about how sorry I am for his loss-you know! You!" Tears began streaking down from her eyes, but Sherlock was too stricken with worry to even give the slightest bit of sympathy to her; he knew full well she was lying. And she knew he knew, so why did she even bother? But he still didn't know what she wrote. So he rushed to grab some paper and his pen, and started writing another letter. Kathy just stood there, staring at him. Not knowing whether to stay or run._

_9:45pm _

_After Sherlock was finished, he began walking towards 221b Bakers Street to pot the letter. He didn't even look back to see if Kathy was still crying or still there, he couldn't care less with the amount of anger she made him feel at the moment. He didn't like feeling emotions, they were too dull and empowering for him to control. That's why he didn't have friends'._

_10:29pm_

_Sherlock made it to 221b Bakers Street, but didn't look to see if anyone was watching him as he ran across the road; and post the letter through the slot. He then knocked four times, and straight after he ran back to the alley across the street; and waited till someone found the letter._

_A minute later, Mrs Hudson answered the door; only to find there was no-one there. Once the door was shut, he started walking back to the 'Arches'; hoping the cold breeze would help calm him down from his anger and worry._

_11:06pm_

_When Sherlock got back, Kathy was gone. He assumed she ran off for the night; knowing he scared her before. And that she'd come back from her 'work' tomorrow afternoon. He walked over to his blankets' and sat down on them. He started to feel a little guilt towards Kathy. And thought about how much he hurt her before. But then he thought about how she was the reason he acted the way he did; but then thought about the fact that she was only a kid. Sherlock was getting sick of all the emotions that he seemed to be forming over the past month. He didn't know how everybody else with their simple minds could handle it; when he was having difficulty with it himself._

_11:15pm_

_Kathy came around the corner, looking tired; and still a little frightened. Sherlock stood up, waiting for what she had to say._

"_Don't be angry with me!" She said. But she didn't say it in the way that she wanted to be forgiven, but in the way that she was about to do something stupid. She went back around the corner for a few seconds, and came around the corner with someone who made him freeze on the spot. He wanted to run away, and as fast as he could; and as far away as he could. But it was too late, He'd already seen him. Sherlock could clearly see the look of horror, and confusion on his face. But he also noticed something else. Happiness? How could be happy with the way Sherlock hadn't told him the truth for three months'._

"_Sherlock?" John said. His voice, high pitched. So he was also shocked. All he did was stare at Sherlock, also seeming to be frozen where he stood. Even from the distance Sherlock was standing, he could see that John's eyes were watering._

"_Hey, John." That's all! That's all Sherlock could get out. After three months of not seeing, talking, being with John; and that's all he could say. But all the other words he wanted to say were stuck in the back of his throat._

_He could also feel his eyes starting to water. Damn these emotions! But what was it the emotion of? Worry? Shock? Fear? Or something he hadn't yet felt? Sherlock didn't know his own mind anymore._

_Part 3 The Meeting_

_11:16pm_

_They both stood there, staring at each other, into each other's eyes; not moving. Kathy was the first to speak. This made Sherlock look away from John and at the floor when she did._

"_I'll go somewhere else. You two…continue talking." She was obviously being sarcastic, but she said it in a sympathetic way that made Sherlock not bother with a rant. She walked of around the corner, leaving them both there in the dim yellow-orange lantern light. John staring at Sherlock, and Sherlock staring at the floor, trying to avoid his gaze._

"_I thought…" John started, but the words seemed to jump back into his mouth. Sherlock looked back up at John when he didn't continue straight away. "It's been three months." John felt like he was going to be sick. Not in the way that seeing Sherlock was horrible, but in the way that he was…happy. His stomach was doing summersaults, in a way they never had before. "You…could of told me. Or wrote to me or something to tell me that you were still alive or something…" John had to stop again, as his breathing began to get harder to do._

_Sherlock smirked a little at what John said. "Actually, I have been writing to you." When John didn't reply, and got a look of confusion on his face, Sherlock continued. "For about two months now." Sherlock tried smiling to lighten the mood, but John continued to stare at him. The look of confusion was still on his face; till his mouth dropped open and his eyes grew wide with the mesmerised and amazed look that only Sherlock was able to give him._

"_That was you?" His mouth turned into a small smile. But left soon enough and replaced with a look of sadness._

_11:21pm_

_John took a step towards Sherlock, which he then turned into a speed walk towards him. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's torso, as Sherlock did the same. Wrapping one hand behind John's back and the other around his neck. He also rested his head on top of John's and in his blonde-brown hair; whilst John's head was against Sherlock's chest._

_They stayed like this, in silence, for a while; till John tried to pull away. Sherlock wrapped his arms tighter around John, crushing him to his chest. "Please don't let go! Please!" Sherlock pleaded. So John did the same, and wrapped his arms around Sherlock tighter._

_11:24pm_

_When they finally let go of each other, Sherlock pretended to scratch his face; to hide the fact he was wiping away his tears._

"_Sorry…I've never really hugged anyone before." Sherlock said, now looking at John with slightly red-raw eyes. John was trying to say something, but every time he opened his mouth; the words seemed to disappear. He looked down trying to think of the words, and soon began to talk._

"_Are you coming back?" His voice was shaky, as if he hadn't spoken in years. Sherlock stared at him with his brows merged together in confusion, Confusion over why John would ever consider letting Sherlock come back._

"_You mean…back to the flat?" Sherlock said, but knew by looking at the state John was in with the clothes he had been wearing for three days, and his un-shaven face; that, that wasn't what John meant. _

"_No…come back home." John looked up whilst saying this. His eyes were desperate and filled with tears, and all Sherlock could think about was how he was the reason John had been going through do much pain. Seeing John so upset, made Sherlock feeling a breaking feeling inside._

"_I'm so sorry for what I did John. I know I've hurt you so much, and I owe you…so much for that." Sherlock blurted out, his voice too was quite shaky, even when he was trying to steady it. Sherlock could see John's brows creased together, which he knew he was hurt even more. But he couldn't tell at what._

_John could see the guilt in Sherlock's eyes, which made him hurt even more on the inside; but only because he hated seeing Sherlock upset. When he didn't say anything back, Sherlock carried on._

"_Just…tell me what to do and I'll do it." He looked at John with a hurt face and desperate eyes as he carried on. "Please!" He could tell Sherlock was on the brink of tears again, so John thought of the best answer he could._

"_Come home, please." John was basically begging now, he tried his best to plead with his eyes; since no other words would come out. And thankfully it worked; as he saw Sherlock smile a bit and started packing of what few precessions' of his. But before he turned to face John again, he took out three books from his small bag, and placed them on the mattress next to his._

_Once he was done, him and John started walking back home; not talking but just savouring the walk together._

_12:14am Sunday 22__nd__ July_

_They'd both been walking silently the whole way, with both of them standing close to each other, not wanting to be apart again. Once they made it down the alley, they were only across the road from home; Sherlock lifted his hood in case anyone saw him. But John stopped him from walking across the road._

"_You don't have to hide anymore!" John said, confused as to why Sherlock was still trying to hide. Sherlock just looked at him with his deep bright blue eyes, and said._

"_Everyone thinks I'm dead John. I have to hide!" He whispered the last for words. But the rest he said in a deep husky voice. The same voice that made his whole body tingle ever since he saw him again this evening. Ever since seeing him again, John got a warm feeling spreading across his entire body. Sherlock walked off towards 221b, leaving John staring after him from across the road. Sherlock didn't have a key, so he had to wait for John to cross over and join him; so that they could get inside._

_When Sherlock looked over at John, who was still on the other side of the road, who was looking at him hurt and upset._

_John jogged across the road and opened the door, making as little noise as he could. They both snuck in, closing the door with a click; they both started walking up the stairs, and almost made it to the top until Mrs Hudson came from her room._

"_Oh, John luv, I was wondering where you got off to. Are you alright?" Mrs Hudson asked whilst standing at the bottom of the stairs; with a worried expression on her face._

"_Yes Mrs Hudson I'm fine." John pretended to yawn. "I'm just going to bed, so I'll see you tomorrow." John rushed with what he said, trying to escape Mrs Hudson's questions._

"_Have you got someone with you?" Mrs Hudson asked, surprise obvious in her voice. He could see Sherlock smirking from the corner of his eye where Sherlock was crouching out of sight. John hesitated for a moment, not knowing what to say._

"_No, Mrs Hudson. It's just me. I'm gonna go now." John started walking upstairs, him and Sherlock stepping at the same time to not make her more suspicious; than what she already was._

_Once they were upstairs, they walked into the living-room and closed the door behind them; then they sat on the sofa together. Waiting for one another to say something._

_12:20am_

_They both began saying something, but at the same time. So they looked at each other and started roaring in laughter together, the same warm feeling started to go through them both. Leaving them both happy for the first time in months. So John started talking first._

"_Well ummm…"He stopped as he started laughing again. "I'm pretty tired so…I'm gonna go bed…" John said, getting up, but when he saw the hurt look on Sherlock's face; he just stood there as he started speaking._

"_Please don't leave me…not yet please!" Sherlock pleaded, giving what John assumed was the puppy dog eyes. John wanted to laugh again, but the hurt look on Sherlock's face just made him sit back down. He started looking into Sherlock's eyes, trying to find some kind of answer, but saw none._

"_You know I'm amazed." John blurted out after a few minutes of silence._

"_Why's that?" Sherlock asked, his mind wasn't thinking straight, he wasn't able to deduct this as he usually did; he just stared at John. Not knowing what to do._

"_You haven't acted like an annoying dick like you usual do yet!" John smiled with a light laugh; Sherlock did the same before they sat in silence again._

"_I might just sleep on here tonight; I know Mrs Hudson won't come in here. A least not early in the morning." He could feel his eyes getting heavier-he hadn't had a proper night's sleep in weeks, and being with John relaxed him._

"_Okay then, I'll be off to bed then." John said, who was also getting sleepy. He got up and was about to open the door, when Sherlock started speaking again._

"_Thank you, by the way." Sherlock said whilst staring at the floor. John turned around and looked at him for a while, then walked back over to the sofa and sat back next to him; closer than before._

"_For what?" John said looking at Sherlock, puzzled._

"_For not believing any of that rubbish I said on the roof that day." He stopped and looked at John, giving John one of his sparkling smiles. "Thank you…you're the only real friend I've ever had." John and Sherlock gazed into each other's eyes. Till Sherlock broke it off by looking past John, and a little teary._

_He doesn't know how it happened, but John found himself pressing his lips against Sherlock's_

_Sherlock didn't understand what was going on, but it felt right somehow. He closed his eyes and took in what was happening. His hand moved to the back of John's head. Pulling him slightly closer. Whilst John's hands gripped Sherlock's shirt collar._

_12:25am_

_They both pulled away at the same time, just looking at each other in dis-belief yet belief at the same time. They both didn't know what to do; John was the first to look away; trying not to get lost in Sherlock's gaze._

"_Well!" John exclaimed, "I'd better be off to bed. I'll ummm…see you tomorrow!" John said whilst walking out the living-room and into his own room._

_Sherlock just stared after him, trying to reboot his mind, trying to fill it with his favourite cases and each step he took in solving them. But as he lay his head down on the edge of the sofa, all he could think about was John. It didn't help that John was in most of his favourite cases, but his mind soon moved onto John's appearance. John hadn't shaven in two days judging by the amount of stubble on his face; and he'd been wearing the same shirt and jumper for the past three days. How his worried eyes and creases brow meant that he hadn't called his sister in a while. Or the way his chocolate brown eyes dilated whenever John looked at Sherlock. And the fact that he stumbled slightly when he got up. Sherlock couldn't help but smile, and soon fell into a dreamless sleep._

_12:25am *REPEAT*_

_John closed the living-room door and almost fell over getting through his. He stood there for a moment, trying to catch his breath, and soon began smiling. Because he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time. He felt relaxed. All his muscles began to get heavier, so he climbed into his bed; and under the sheets. And all he could think about was that Sherlock was back, and what happened on the sofa. John started to feel something else inside of him; but he didn't quit know what it was. He only knew that Sherlock had brought it on._

_He too seemed to drift off into a dreamless sleep, but before he could do so-John couldn't help but think if it would be awkward tomorrow._

_7:00am_

_John was awoke by four knocks on his door, along with Mrs Hudson's voice through the door._

"_Hiya luv, just popping to the shops, is there anything you want me to get?" She asked John sweetly. John was still half-asleep, when he stumbled out of bed and hit the floor with a loud thud. He opened and walked out of his door rapidly, seeing that Mrs Hudson had a cheery smile on her face; this confused John. But also worried him._

"_No I'm fine, thank you!" John said as calmly as he could, but he couldn't help but say it a bit tensely; and slightly wide-eyed._

"_Okay luv, I'll be back later then." She said sweetly as she started to walk down the stairs. John waited till he heard the door close behind her, and then bolted for the living-room. Looking for Sherlock; only to find he wasn't there. He searched the kitchen and then his bedroom. But still couldn't find him. He took out his phone in an attempt to call him, but then remembered that Sherlock didn't have a phone anymore, not since the day of the 'incident'. John began to panic, not knowing what to do. Not wanting to loose Sherlock again._

_He sat in his chair, fidgeting with the arm rest, waiting; looking continuously at the clock. And then he thought that it was probably a dream that got out to real. The more John thought about it, the more it seemed that way. He soon began to relax after that._

_8:00am_

_John was in the living-room looking at cases on his computer; as well as the police reports for previous ones. When he heard the front door open, and could hear someone coming up the stairs._

"_Hi Mrs Hudson, I'll be with you in a minute I'm just…" John stopped talking when he saw the figure in the doorway wasn't Mrs Hudson-but Sherlock Holmes. He just stared at him, unsure of what to say; considering he thought last night was a dream. He then saw that Sherlock was holding two cups of coffee._

_Sherlock handed John his coffee, and sat in his chair, also looking at John. _

"_You know the reason people are homeless, is because they don't have any money." John said playfully, still not believing his eyes. This made them both laugh. Sherlock was now staring at his coffee when he started speaking._

"_Well that's were a bit of intelligence comes in handy." He said, placing a smile at the end. Keeping the game up._

"_You stole it? Didn't you?" John said humorously, but with a serious face._

"_I wouldn't say stole, more…" Sherlock hesitated, knowing it would wind John up, and finished with, "…apprehended it." Again, leaving a smile at the end. John chuckled a bit and looked at Sherlock suspiciously, whilst Sherlock sat in his chair staring at his coffee. Sherlock could tell John wanted to say something, so he waited till he did._

"_Where did you go?" John asked after a minute. Sherlock glanced at him from his coffee and raised his eyebrows. "I mean this morning, not-you know!" John quickly said to make sure there was no confusion. Even though he knew Sherlock knew what he meant._

_Sherlock didn't want to tell him where he'd been. Where he's been since 6:30 this morning, or what he did. Sherlock exhaled and then spoke._

"_I've been…to the police station." He said, now looking right ahead of him and towards the sofa. He then looked at John and saw that he had a shocked look on his face mixed with confusion._

"_You…what did you do?" John asked quietly. Sherlock stared at John, and then licked his lips-getting ready to speak._

"_I went there…told Lestrade the truth." Sherlock was still looking at John, but this time in a way as if he meant to say 'big deal'. "And it just so happens that pretty much every other police officer saw me." He said in a sarcastic manor, but John could tell he meant it._

"_Oh and Mrs Hudson knows too, I ran into her about 6:00 this morning and talk her." Said Sherlock. John opened his mouth to speak, but Sherlock cut him off. "Yes, she was shocked before you ask. But thankfully she was happy to see me." Sherlock was looking at John apologetically, hoping John wouldn't get angry with him. Sherlock was thinking back to how Mrs Hudson almost fainted when she saw Sherlock; shouting ghost before running back into her room. Sherlock managed to calm her down, and talk to her, having to prove it by making a deduction of her._

_John was thinking back to before, and how Mrs Hudson seemed really cheerful; what Sherlock had said explained a lot._

"_You don't have a plan do you!" John stated to Sherlock, with a sad expression on his face. Sherlock just stared at the floor, cocking his head to the side._

"_No." He said in his deep husky voice._

"_So what you going to do?" John said worriedly. He was worried that Sherlock was going to get hurt again. Sherlock just sat there, sitting in his chair with a blank expression._

"_Well…I'm going to have a shower." Sherlock said whilst getting up. He didn't know what he was going to do. He thought all the pieces would fall into place soon enough._

_When Sherlock left, John was left on his own; so he turned his attention back to his computer, when the doorbell went off. John lazily went down to open it, to find Lestrade standing there. Lestrade looked as white as a sheet, but still barged his way through and into the living-room. He looked as if he was going to be sick._

"_So you know then!" Lestrade said angrily. John knew what he was talking about, but couldn't figure out why he was angry; n=but that didn't matter since he told John._

"_You know what he did? He burst into the station, and started having a go at me for putting you! Through too much stress!" Lestrade fell back onto the sofa, and through his head back whilst putting his hands over his face._

"_He…he told me he went down to tell you the truth!" John said, confused by Sherlock's behaviour. Why was be being so protective over John all of a sudden?_

"_Oh no, that's not even the end of what he did! After shouting at me, Donovan came in and screamed because she thought he was some kind of zombie! Then started having a go at her for filling your mind full of 'rubbish'!" Lestrade emphasised on that last word, and took a breath before telling John the rest. "And then as he was leaving, Anderson showed up, and then Sherlock knocked him out! Got to admit it was a bloody good shot, but we were all scared to fucking death!" John just stared at him, feeling awkward; he just started staring at the ceiling, not knowing what to say in response._

"_Do you know how he did it?" Lestrade asked John, in a more timid voice. John shook his head, now wondering why Sherlock hadn't said yet how he did it. "Right, well. I only came by to tell you that, and that because the whole station knows; plenty of journalists do too." Lestrade stood up and started walking out, before saying, "I am glad he's back you know. No matter how much of an irritating sod he is I am glad he's back. Keep him safe though…in case anyone turns on him again." He let himself out the flat, and John was left alone again._

_9:15am_

_Sherlock walked into the living-room, fully dried and dressed in one of his suits._

"_Lestrade come round then?" Sherlock asked whilst sitting down on the sofa. John looked up wondering how he could possibly know._

"_How'd you…" John started before Sherlock cut him off._

"_Please! Like he wouldn't of when I went down to the station." Sherlock said, giving John a humorous look. John started to blush and quickly turned away before Sherlock could see or comment._

"_How come you said all those things to them?" John said, trying to direct the attention to Sherlock. Sherlock was scared if Lestrade had told John the truth._

"_What do you mean?" He said, hoping Lestrade didn't say how he was angry with them for hurting John._

"_That you were shouting at them…because apparently…they were stressing me out." Sherlock stared at him, not wanting to admit that what happened last night, made him happier than ever. Sherlock brought his legs up onto the sofa and wrapped his arms around them, trying not to look at John; when really-he didn't want to admit how he feels._

_John was angry that Sherlock hadn't explained anything to him yet. Usually Sherlock wouldn't shut up and would be ranting and raving over nothing by now. John walked over to the sofa and sat next to Sherlock. Then thought to himself how they were already fighting. John started laughing. Sherlock looked up, confused._

"_What?" He asked as he started to sit up properly._

"_Just thinking how you've only just come back, and already we're arguing." John said out loud, which made Sherlock laugh too._

_They both stopped after a while and sat in silence. But Sherlock kept looking at John, wanting a repeat of last night. And all John could think about was how warm and bright everything was, and how he wanted last night to happen again._

_9:21am_

_Sherlock took in a deep breath and sighed heavily, before saying, "This is tedious." Sherlock said whilst looking round the room. John just looked at him, wondering if there might be a case he may be interested in._

"_Well what do you want me to do about it? John asked, wondering if Sherlock did remember last night._

"_Did I hurt you?" Sherlock asked, now staring at John with pleading eyes._

"_What do you mean?" John said back, unsure what Sherlock was getting at._

"_When I was gone for so long, because of the…'incident'. I usually followed you to some places. And every time I saw your face. You looked so tired and…lonely. And I know it was my fault. I just…didn't realise how much I mean to you and…you mean to me till last night…"_

_Sherlock trailed off and began staring at the door, his eyes started to form tears. John was mortified that Sherlock was so hurt because of this. And then he realised what he said, 'how much you mean to me'. This is what Sherlock said._

"_Why did you write those letters'?" John asked urgently, hoping that he could finally tell Sherlock the truth on how he feels._

_Sherlock stared at John, and found himself looking deeply into his eyes before saying, "I missed you." He said in a more needy voice that he didn't mean to get out. "I needed to talk to you in some way." Sherlock realised it then. The emotion/feeling he'd been feeling for John for ages that he'd never been able to admit. He was about to say it, when John beat him to it._

"_I love you!" John said quickly. John then leaned in for a kiss, pulling Sherlock's collar so he was close to him, so he could deepen the kiss. It wasn't like last night though. I t was better, and more passionate; and Sherlock's lips were softer than last night._

_9:26am_

_They soon let go of each other, staring into each other's eyes. Sherlock was trying to see if John really meant what he said, and once he found it; he couldn't help but smile._

"_You're the only one who understands me John. And I would willing jump off that roof, just too make you happy!" Sherlock said, looking deeply into John's eyes._

"_The only way I could be happy, is if I jumped with you!" John whispered to Sherlock, whilst entwining his fingers in Sherlock's curly, brown, fluffy hair. They both smiled at each other before Sherlock spoke. _

"_I love you too John. And I don't know why it took me this long to figure it out." Sherlock said, whilst still smiling at John, as he did to him. John pulled Sherlock close to him again, making their kiss more soft and passionate than before. That was the moment that they knew they'd found their perfect match. And that they would spend the rest of their lives with each other._

"_You're everything in the world to me John. And I'm never leaving you again." Sherlock said as last words._

"_I'd follow you to the end of the earth just to find you again." John replied back. Leaning in for another kiss._


End file.
